


Painted Wings

by Bittyab18



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Nanny!Clarke, Parent Death, Parent-Child Relationship, Single Parent/Nanny AU, SingleDaddy!Bellamy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-03-22 10:42:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3725782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittyab18/pseuds/Bittyab18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years ago, Bellamy's mom and step-dad were killed in a car accident, and he became the sole guardian of his six-year old half-sister. The last three years have been tough for Bellamy and Octavia. His co-worker, Maya, suggests that he get a nanny to make things easier on the both of them. Despite Bellamy's protests, Maya makes a call, and in walks Clarke Griffin.</p><p>This fic has established Clexa in the beginning, but will end with Bellarke.</p><p>Chapter 7 features some Clexa smut, but it is mild.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He was doing a shit job at this single-parenting thing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy gets yet another call from Octavia's school, because of her misbehavior. Bellamy's co-worker, Maya, suggests that he get a nanny, but he blatantly refuses. Maya gives her friend a call anyway, and Bellamy meets Clarke Griffin, a pretty college student who is great with kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I am working on the next chapter of Win a Date with Bellamy Blake, I thought I would follow one of the many Tumblr prompts for my favorite couple of The 100 fandom: Bellarke. Without further ado, I give you a fic based on the nanny/single parent AU prompt.
> 
> Rather than having Bellamy be a single dad from a relationship with someone, I’m going to go the single parent route with Bellamy being much older than his younger sister, Octavia. In this fic, Octavia is going to be 9, and Bellamy is going to be 27. Bellamy’s mom had him when she was sixteen, and then had Octavia when she was 34 (he was 18). He got custody of Octavia three years before, when she was 6, and he was 24. I’m keeping the 5 year age difference between Clarke and Bellamy, just like in the pilot. Bellamy is already 27, but Clarke is 21 and will be turning 22 in a few months. She is still a junior in college.

Bellamy cursed when he got yet another phone call from Octavia’s school. “Mr. Blake, this is Mrs. Taylor, the secretary for Mrs. Kane.” He sighed, his eyes closing as he ran a hand through his messy curls. Even Octavia told him that he needed a haircut, and she was _nine_ and in fourth grade.

“Mrs. Taylor, what did she do this time?” He said despondently as he picked the jacket he’d just taken off moments before back up from where he’d draped it on the hook in the library’s back office.

“Mr. Blake, I really think that it’d be appropriate for you to speak to Mrs. Kane about that.” Mrs. Taylor said haughtily. “Should I tell her that you’re on your way in?” He hung his head, running a hand down his forehead. He waved a hand at Maya, who was just exited the bathroom. She cocked an eyebrow at him, and he grimaced at her.

“ _Again_?” She mouthed to him, and he sighed, looking away. He was doing a shit job at this single-parenting thing.

“Yes, I’m on my way, Mrs. Taylor.” He said, hanging up the phone. “I’m sorry! Can you cover everything for an hour? Two, tops.”

“It’s still early, so I don’t expect too much of a rush, but you’re doing all of the re-shelving for the rest of the week. Got it?” He nodded his head.

“Thank you!” He said, pulling his jacket on and shoving his phone into his pocket again.

“Have you thought about getting a nanny?” Maya said as she watched him reach for his keys. He glanced up at her, eyebrows furrowed.

“She’s my sister, so she’s my responsibility.” He said curtly.

“Well, that’s admirable, Bellamy, really. Just because you have a nanny, it doesn’t mean you’re not being responsible for your baby sister.” Maya rested her chin in her palm. “You’re not going to be that responsible when you lose your job, because you have to rush out of work to pick her up constantly, because she keeps getting sent to the principal’s office.” He frowned, eyes narrowing at her. “Hey, don’t look at me like that! I love Octavia. She’s smart as a whip, funny as hell, and she’s cute as can be. I have no problems with her spending all day in the library, reading encyclopedias on the Roman Empire.”

“The Ottoman Empire.” Maya gave him a confused look. “We’re reading about the Ottoman Empire now.”

“Right, _that_.” Maya sighed. “So, maybe you should look into a nanny who could pick her up from school, prepare meals, do laundry, run errands—all that jazz—while you focus on work for a bit.”

“I don’t know, Maya. Look, I gotta go.” He rushed out of the room, keys in hand.

* * *

 “You _threw_ an apple at your teacher.” Bellamy said, gripping his younger sister’s delicate hand in his as he all but dragged her from the school to his car.

“But, Bell! Mrs. Indra is so mean!” Octavia whined. “She wouldn’t let me go outside to look at the butterflies!” His baby sister looked up at him, a distraught look on her face. Her dark eyebrows framed a pair of hazel eyes, several shades lighter than his brown. Her long hair was tugged back in a high ponytail on her head, tied back with a purple hair elastic, which matched her purple t-shirt and jeans. She was especially excited about the sequin butterfly that was on the front of it, as well as her light-up sneakers. At the moment, she was stomping her feet as she followed him to the car, and he couldn’t tell if it was because she wanted to make her shoes light up or if it was because she was irritated about getting in trouble at school again.

“I don’t care if you think she’s mean for not letting you look at butterflies. You’re in school, O, which means you have to pay attention to the teacher and what she’s teaching you.”

“Division is _stupid_ , Bell. Why do I need to learn how to do division?” She rolled her eyes.

“You need to know how to divide so that you can be sure that all of your toys get the same amount of cookies when you play tea party, right?”

“What are you talking about?”

“If you have your teddy bear, your dolly, and your stuffed unicorn, and you sitting at the table during your tea party, and you have twelve cookies, how will you know how many cookies each of you get? Division helps, because you can just do twelve divided by four.” He opened the backseat of the car, helping her into the booster seat. She was just shy of the required height to not need a booster, and she _hated_ being in the booster seat.

“Bell, can’t I sit up front with you?”

“No.” He said, crossing his arms as rolled her eyes and clicked her seatbelt into place. “How many cookies do each of you get?”

“What?”

“Twelve cookies. Your three favorite toys and you, so that’s four. How many cookies do each of you get?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, maybe if you paid attention to how to do division, you’d have an easier time, yeah?” He shut the car door and walked around to the driver’s side, climbing in. “Talk it out, and I will let you know if you got it right, okay?” He said, starting the car door. “If you haven’t gotten it by the time we get to the library, I’ll show you how to do it on paper, okay?”

* * *

“Bell! Can you help me?” Octavia called out from where she was sitting down at a table in sight of the front desk where he or Maya would be at all times. He gave a tight smile to the woman he was checking a book out to. “Bell!”

“Sorry, just a second.” Bellamy said to the woman, leaning over the counter. “O! Inside voices. I’ll be there in a second, okay?” He whisper-shouted at her, giving her an irritated glare.

“Sorry!” She whisper-shouted back.

“You’re book is due on the fourth, ma’am. Thanks for coming.” He said, passing the woman back her book, with a receipt sticking out of the top, and her library card. She smiled at him, walking away.

He glanced around to see if anyone looked like they were heading towards the counter before slipping around it and heading towards Octavia. “Bell, help?” She was doodling on a piece of paper, which appeared to be full of misshapen butterflies.

“Wow. Those are some awesome butterflies, O.” He said, running a hand over the back of her head. “What do you need help with?”

“The wings are bad. I can’t draw the wings.” He chewed on his bottom lip, studying them.

“Hmm. Let me give it a shot.” He took the colored pencil from her and made a butterfly that looked similar to hers. “What do you think?”

“No! That’s terrible.” He frowned. “Mine are better than yours!” She whined.

“Hey! That’s not nice.” He pouted.

“But, she’s right.” He glanced up to see a blonde girl glancing over Octavia’s shoulder as she walked by, one of those quilted shoulder bags that looked similar to one that Octavia had asked him to buy her. He’d had to tell her no, because it was over a hundred bucks for a schoolbag that wasn’t even big enough to hold all of her stuff. He’d bought her a purple JanSport schoolbag and had sewn felt butterflies into it for her. He shot the girl an irritated look that said, _I know_ , because he’d drawn it like that on purpose, and the blonde just rolled her eyes at him. “You did a great job on these. I remember when I first learned how to do butterflies.” She crouched down beside Octavia. “Maybe I could show you how I learned how to do it?”

“Yeah! Give me that, Bell!” Octavia yanked the pencil from his hand and shoved it at the girl. The blonde smiled at her, taking the pencil. She pulled Octavia’s paper closer. She flipped the page over and drew the body of a butterfly, along with a bunch of dashes in the shape of wings.

“Why don’t you trace that? If you keep practicing, you might be able to wind up doing something like this.” The girl reached inside of her bag and pulled out a large sketchbook. She flipped through it until she found an intricate pencil-drawing of a garden. She tapped her index finger on a butterfly that was seated on the largest, flower, the central focus of the sketch.

“OH! Bell, look!” Octavia reached out and gently ran her fingers over the picture. “It’s so pretty.” She said, and he could hear the awe in his voice.

“Look, you guys found each other!” Bellamy glanced up, seeing Maya standing there, smiling. He looked over at the blonde, confused as hell.

“What are you talking about?” He asked her, crossing his arms.

“Bellamy, let me introduce you to Clarke. She’s a friend of mine. She’s a junior at Mount Weather. Clarke, this is Bellamy and Octavia.” Maya smiled at the blonde. “She’s friends with Jasper—we met through him.” Jasper was Maya’s boyfriend. Jasper was a year younger than Maya, who was finishing up her master’s in library science and had an internship at the Ark Public Library, where he worked. She was likely going to get hired when she finished her program. Jasper was in his senior year at Mount Weather, studying chemistry, and he was going to go back for his master’s in chemical engineering the following year. So, Clarke was a year younger than him. What he didn’t know was why Maya was introducing him to the blonde?

Sure, this Clarke was pretty, but he wasn’t looking to date anyone. He didn’t have time, between caring for Octavia and work. Besides, she was still in school, just a kid really. What was she twenty? Twenty-one? He frowned, looking between Clarke and Maya.

“Oh, stop with the face, would ya?” Maya laughed shaking her head. “Clarke’s a nanny.” His frown deepened, and he sighed, dropping his chin to his chest.

“Maya,” he sighed.

“Uh oh. I see this wasn’t _his_ idea.” Clarke said, frowning as she leaned her hip against the table beside Octavia. His sister glanced between Bellamy, Clarke, and Maya, obviously confused.

“Look, I know that you’re against a nanny, but Clarke’s awesome, really. You need the help.” He glared at Maya.

“I don’t need a nanny.”

“What’s a nanny?” Octavia asked, confused.

“A nanny is something you don’t need.” Bellamy responded instantly. Clarke shot him a dirty look.

“You know what a babysitter is?” She said, crouching beside Octavia again? His sister nodded her head. “A nanny is like that, except he or she works for the family for longer than a few hours. They’re there all day or all night while the parents work, helping to watch the child.”

“Kind of like a mom?” Octavia said quietly, and Bellamy cursed quietly under his breath. Clarke didn’t notice, or ignored him, because she said something that made his gut clench.

“Sort of like a mom, because they sometimes run errands, cook meals, help with homework, and stuff like that. A nanny is there to just help the family when the mom and dad need to work.” Octavia’s bottom lip jutted out and started quivering. Shit, he thought.

“I don’t have a mom. My mommy and daddy died, and all I have is Bell. He’s my brother.” She whimpered, and a couple of fat tears began to roll down her cheeks. He reached for O, but Clarke gave him the tiniest head shake, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Octavia,” she whispered, reaching out to lay her hand on Octavia’s cheek, using her thumb to brush at the tears. “It really hurts to lose your parents.” From the way that she sounded, Bellamy almost thought that she was speaking from experience. “You must miss them.”

“Yeah, I do. I was sleeping over at Bell’s apartment, and they got in a car accident.” O wiped at her other cheek, leaning into Clarke’s hand. Clarke nodded her head at the little girl.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie.” She said quietly. “You want to hear a cool story? It’s a little sad at the beginning, but it is a happy story after all.”

“Okay,” Octavia nodded her head.

“Butterflies are some of my favorite things to paint and draw, so my dad bought me one of those butterfly kits where you help butterflies grow from caterpillars. I was bigger than you—sixteen—so I thought I was too cool for that kind of present, but I took care of the caterpillars until they went into their cocoons. My dad died a few weeks before my seventeenth birthday.” Clarke said, frowning, looking at the garden picture she sketched.

“When the butterflies started breaking out of the cocoons, I took them out into my dad’s favorite place, the garden in our backyard. He and I used to sit out there for hours and talk and play and just be together. We’d scattered my dad’s ashes in the garden, so I decided to set the butterflies free there. My mom and I stood there, opening the door to the cage that they were in. The butterflies flew out and away, except for one butterfly. The butterfly kept flying between my mom and me, landing on our heads and sometimes settling on our noses or finger tips. I like to think that that butterfly was my dad, you know? He was telling us that he was alright. I drew that picture that day,” she said, pointing to the garden scene. “That butterfly stuck around our garden for a long time. When the butterfly stopped showing up in our garden, I felt okay. It hurts to say goodbye to the ones we love who leave too soon, but sometimes good things happen that remind us that they’re always there for us, even if we might not be able to see them anymore.”

“I think the butterfly was your daddy.” Octavia whispered, her voice full of awe. She reached out to run her fingers gently and lightly over the butterfly in the picture. “Do you think that my daddy and mommy are looking out for me and Bell?”

“I know they are, Octavia. They’re gonna watch you grow up, and I know that they’ll be very proud of you.” Octavia frowned, looking down at her misshapen butterflies.

“I think they’d be mad at me right now, because I got ‘uspended today for throwing an apple at my teacher.” She mumbled. Clarke’s eyes widened, and she looked away, rolling her lips into a thin line to keep from smiling. Yeah, it was funny the _first_ time, but O had gotten in trouble a lot over the last three years since their mom and her dad (his step-dad) died.

“I don’t think that it was very nice to throw an apple at your teacher,” Clarke said after a moment. “But, I’m sure that your mom and dad would be especially proud of you if you went back to school when your suspension is over and apologized to your teacher. Maybe you could make her a sorry card?”

“Yeah! I will!”

“Perfect! Why don’t you practice with that butterfly that I drew, and we can make the card up after I talk to your brother, okay?” Octavia nodded her head and started tracing the dashed lines that Clarke had drawn.

* * *

Bellamy stared at Clarke. They had moved back to the front desk, and she’d waited until he finished helping a few customers before they spoke once again. He tensed his jaw, arms crossed. He had to admit that she was pretty great with Octavia. Octavia loved art, so she also had that going for her. Plus, the story about her dad, whether it was real or not, really seemed to be meaningful for O. But, he didn’t want a nanny. He didn’t need one. It was just him and O, and that was how it was going to stay.

“I don’t need or want a nanny.”

“I know.” Clarke smiled at him. “She needs one, though.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

“She has me.”

“Bellamy, she’s an angry and scared kid. I can hell. She’s still grieving your parents’ death.”

“Her parents. My mom.” She nodded her head, filing away that information. “How old is she? Eight or nine?”

“Nine.”

“You’ve got another four years or so before she’d be okay being on her own after school. That’s right around the time that she’ll get her period for the first time. You ready to start talking to her about that?” He groaned, rubbing hand down his face. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

“I’d do it for her. When the time comes.”

“Look, here’s the deal. I babysat all through high school with kids much younger than O’s age. I also babysat for a number of my professors’ kids over the last few years. Getting a job as a nanny would be even better than being a weekly sitter, because I need the money.” He looked pointedly at the bag she was wearing.

“Yeah, you don’t exactly look like the starving college student type.” She crossed her arms, brows furrowing.

“Well, you don’t know anything about me, do you?”

“ _Exactly_.”

“I can give you references.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a list of ten names, telephone numbers, and how long she’d worked with them. Most of them were for at least a year, except the ones for her professors, which were only for a few months at a time. “Call any of them. They love me. They’ll tell you I’m great with kids, and I go above and beyond for them—the kids and the parents.”

He stared at her. She was passionate…that was for sure. “Major?”

“For my freshman year and the fall semester of my sophomore year, I was a pre-med major. I did all of my prerequisite courses and a few of major courses, but I finally admitted to myself that I didn’t want to be a doctor, but still want to help people. I am now a double major in studio art and psychology. Next fall, I’m going to apply to Mount Weather’s art therapy master’s program. I’ve had a 4.0 every semester for the last two years, and I’m going to do my best to continue this for my final two years. I’m pretty sure that I will get into the master’s program, so I’ll be around for the next four to five years, depending on whether I do full-time or part-time for my master’s.”

Clarke was smart, and she was studying to be an art therapist, which meant she’d be able to help Octavia through her grieving process. Plus, she was right. Octavia was nine, and it would be another four or five years before he’d feel comfortable letting her be home alone. Plus, it would be helpful to have a girl around to help with the whole growing boobs and getting a period thing that was going to happen to his sister in a few years. He tensed his jaw and stared at the list of names in front of him.

“Here’s the deal. I’ll give you a trial run for today, okay? Let Octavia get to know you. Then, tonight, I will call some of your references and talk things over with O. If she likes you and is cool with this, _then_ I will look over my budget to see how much I could afford to pay you. If it doesn’t work for you, then I’m sorry, but I’m not exactly rolling in cash. Three-quarters of my mom and step-dad’s life insurance and the sale of their house, which wasn’t exactly much, went into a savings account for O’s college fund. The rest I used to get a bigger apartment.” He tapped his finger on the desktop on her reference sheet. She was nodding her head over and over, squeezing the handle of her bag in her hand. “I do have a third bedroom, but that’s mainly used for storage—stuff that she wasn’t really ready to let go of from my mom and step-dad. So, I can’t, like, have you move in or anything.”

“Oh! I don’t need to! Really! That’s fine. I have some money in savings, too…that my dad left me.” She swallowed, and he realized that her story about her dad dying was the truth. He licked his bottom lip. “And, I have a roommate. I live off-campus, and I have a car—one that my parents bought me, so it’s already paid off. Really, I’m not _hurting_ for cash, but I do need a job to pay my half of the bills. I’m sure I’d be able to make whatever you could spare work…” She smiled at him. “I’m very resourceful.”

“Right, so…trial run.” She nodded her head, fumbling for a pen out of her bag. She wrote down a telephone number at the top of the reference sheet.

“Give me a call whenever you’re ready.” She gave him a final smile before rushing over to Octavia. He watched them for a few more minutes before needing to focus back on his work. Just seeing the way Octavia’s entire face lit up when Clarke returned to her, he knew that she was going to get the job. He’d do anything to keep that kind of look on his baby sister’s face. Clarke was their new nanny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve come to the realization that I can’t write a one-shot to save my life. So, this is now a multi-chap fic. Let me know what you all think!
> 
> I'll add tags and characters with each new chapter. I don't intend for this fic to get smutty, but I have trouble having Bellamy keep things in his pants, so we shall see what happens about that. For now, it is unrated. As we get farther into the fic, I will set a rating.


	2. Did you just tell me that I need to get ‘white-girl-wasted’ and laid?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy is uncomfortable with the fact that he was wrong about getting a nanny, but don't expect him to say that to anyone. Also, is it inappropriate to sort of flirt with your sister's nanny? It isn't his fault, though, because she basically told him he needs to get drunk and have sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My intention was originally to keep this completely Bellamy’s POV, but I do love getting into Clarke’s head, too, so eventually we will have some scenes from her POV.

Bellamy hated admitting when he was wrong. Which is why he still hadn’t admitted to anyone—especially _Clarke_ —that hiring a nanny was actually helpful. It took some time to get used to her being around, because _he_ was so used to his and Octavia’s usual routine. He usually needed to get up at 6:00 am to get ready for work himself, and then he would devote just over an hour to getting Octavia ready for school and then out of the door and to school. Usually, they’d arrive just before the late bell rang at half-past 8:00 am. The first weekday that Clarke arrived at 7:00 am to help with O, he almost poured his freshly prepared mug of hot coffee down the front of himself. He’d forgotten that that was her start time during the week. She worked for eight hours each day, but was scheduled from 7:00 am to 7:00 pm every weekday, with a few hours off midday for classes and the like.

Once he’d gotten used to her being around, he actually started appreciating that dinner was ready and Octavia’s homework was done by the time he got home in the evenings. Plus, he found that his boss was actually happy that Bellamy’s shifts weren’t disjointed, because he had to rush out to pick O up after school and bring her back to the library until the end of his shift, which was 6:30 pm. Then, it was a headache to get O fed and all of her homework done by her 9:30 bedtime. With Clarke, though, O was picked up from school and her homework completed, and dinner was ready to go, and he had a few hours to actually spend time with his sister and hear about her day.

In the month that Clarke had been their nanny, O’s behavior had started to change in school, as well. He was getting fewer and fewer calls from the school about her behavior or the fact that she’d refused to hand in homework assignments or that she didn’t want to do her work during the day. He didn’t know what Clarke was doing that he wasn’t doing, and it actually hurt his ego a bit. Like, why was his sister suddenly an angel?

“Hey, O?” He said after she came out of the bathroom from her bath. She had a towel wrapped around her frame, and her hair was a knotted mess, dripping water onto the floor. “When you get dressed, do you think we could chat?” Octavia nodded her head and started toward her room to get dressed in her pajamas. “Wait. Did you brush your teeth?” She nodded her head. “Wash all the important parts with the washcloth _and soap_?” She nodded again. “Okay, good.”

He waited for her to return, a comb and a few hair elastics in her hand. She sat on the floor in front of him, some asinine Disney Channel show on the TV, and he began combing the knots out of her wet hair. “How are things going with Clarke?”

“She’s so cool!” She chattered, her eyes on the screen. “She and I did a science experiment today.”

“Oh, yeah?” He asked her, brushing the comb through her hair again. “What kind of experiment?”

“Well, Clarke filled two glasses with water, except she put salt in one of the glasses, and then we put eggs in the glasses. Bell, the egg sank to the bottom in the water, but it _floated_ in the salt glass.”

“That sounds really cool, O. Do you know why that happens?”

“Well, Clarke said it was ‘cause of density.” He nodded his head.

“That’s really neat. I didn’t know that.” Bellamy said, finishing with the tangles in O’s hair. He then began adding a number of small braids in her hair until they reached the back of her head. He then combined them all into a single braid.

“Yeah, and we also played around with baking soda and vinegar! It was crazy! It was bubbling everywhere. It was so funny!” When he was finished the braid in her hair, he tapped her shoulder, allowing her to climb onto the couch beside him.

“It sounds like you guys have a lot of fun. You like her, huh?”

“She’s so much fun, Bell. Wanna see the picture we’re working on?”

“Of course, kiddo.” O jumped off of the couch and ran into the storage room before running back out with a piece of rolled up white paper that was about the height of his sister. She unrolled it, and he took in the sight of a combination of misshapen and perfectly drawn images of a street, but only one fourth of the page was completed. He saw the skeleton shape of some intricately drawn houses that Octavia was starting to color in, as well as trees, birds, people, cats, cars, and so on. “Wow, O. This is great!”

“Clarke and I are doing a little bit at a time. See, there’s a house here, and a car. Clarke helped me draw that person.” She was grinning as she pointed things out on the picture. She rolled the picture up again before returning it to the storage room.

“So, what do you guys do together?” He asked her when she returned.

Octavia chewed on her bottom lip. “Well, she helps me get ready in the morning,” he nodded his head. He knew that part. He saw how great Clarke was at getting her up and ready in the morning. “Then, we sing _The Lion King_ on the way to school. Then, when she picks me up, she asks me about school and my friends and everything while drive home. Then, she makes me a snack. I like Ants on a Log!” Jesus Christ. Clarke had figured out a way to get Octavia to eat celery, something he’d never been able to do, even when he attempted Ants on a Log with her in the past.

“Sounds great.”

“She helps me with my homework, too. She makes it a game.” He filed that information away, because that seemed to be something that Octavia liked doing. “Then, we have dance parties or color or do experiments or something. It’s fun. She’s fun.”

“Wasn’t I fun?” He pouted, and she giggled.

“You’re fun, Bell!” She kissed his cheek. “But sometimes the library is boring. It’s too quiet.” She frowned. Ah, there it was. He knew that it was hard on O to go to the library after school, and she’d be cranky by the time he was finished in the evening, even with the afterschool programs that he’d purposely got into the library to keep her entertained until he was done for the day.

“I’m glad that you like her, O. I just want to make sure that you don’t get in trouble at school anymore.”

“Clarke talked to Mrs. Indra, and every day that I get on Green at school, she gives me a star on the calendar she keeps in her bag. When I get five stars, she gives me a special treat on Fridays.” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Oh? What’s the special treat?”

“She takes me to Starbucks, and she gets me a vanilla fwapchino and a chocolate brownie.”

“Frappuccino.” He corrected her automatically. Clarke was getting his sister chocolate brownies and Frappuccinos? He needed to talk to her about that. Not only was it too many sweets for her before dinner, but Frappuccinos (and chocolate, for that matter) were caffeinated, and Octavia was hyper enough _without_ sugar and caffeine. And, there was the whole bribery thing that just didn’t sit well with him. “So, you’re doing well in school, because you want brownies and Frappuccinos?”

“Yes! They taste good. It’s like ice cream and brownies!” He shook his head. Clarke was bribing Octavia to behave better in school, and it was actually working. He just didn’t like the idea of O having caffeinated drinks. They talked a bit more about school and Clarke before Bellamy told O that it was time for bed.

* * *

The next morning, Octavia was a pain in the ass to get out of bed. She’d stayed up an extra half hour after her usual bedtime, because she begged Bellamy to read three books to her, since she couldn’t decide which story she wanted to hear more. With the flurry of activity of Clarke doing her best to get O ready and _not_ late for school, he didn’t get a chance to pull her aside to talk about the bribing his nine year old sister with Frappuccinos and brownies. He barely had a chance to kiss O sloppily on the cheek goodbye before she and Clarke were rushing out the door. Clarke shot him a big smile and wave before shutting the door behind the two of them.

He was surprised to see them coming in the door of the library later that afternoon. Usually, he’d see them at the end of his shift back at the apartment, so he was surprised when Octavia came barreling into the library, dragging Clarke behind her by the arm. Clarke had a huge grin on her face, looking more amused than annoyed, and his sister looked elated. There was no other word to describe the little girl’s face than that. “Bell!!! Guess what!” His sister shrieked, earning quite a few unhappy looks in their direction from the library patrons. He winced, opening his mouth to address O, but Clarke beat him to it.

“Inside voice, Octavia,” she said, shaking her head at his sister. “We’re in a library, which means we use inside voices.”

“Right. Sorry.” Octavia whispered exaggeratedly.

Bellamy smiled, heading out from behind the counter to pull O into a hug and press a kiss to her forehead. “How was school, kid? What’s got you all hyped up?” He said, pulling back from the hug, but remaining crouched in front of his sister.

“Mrs. Indra said that because I’ve been so good lately, she’s gonna give me a reward.” She grinned, her smile all teeth (and a gap where she’d lost one two weeks before).

“Oh? That’s awesome. What kind of reward?”

“I get to lead the Halloween parade in two weeks!!!” Bellamy’s eyebrows rose, because he was cringing internally for forgetting that Halloween was coming up. He needed to get O a costume, and he was sure she would cry about “all of the good one are gone.”

“That’s awesome, O! I’m so proud of you!”

“I need a really good costume, because I’ll be at the front of the line! And, you, too! And, Clarke!”

“O, I’m not sure that I’ll be able to get off from work…” His heart broke as he watched the smile fall from his sister’s face. He hated disappointing him.

“It’s okay, right, O? If Bellamy can’t make it to the parade at school, then when it’s over, we’ll come over and show off your costume to him here. How’s that?” Clarke said, crouching down to be at their level. “I’m sure that he’d be there if he could. So, what are you going as this year?”

“I dunno. Bell and I didn’t go shopping yet.” Bellamy winced when he saw Clarke shoot him a small glare.

“That’s actually perfect, because I have the perfect costume in mind for you. We’ll keep it a secret, so that we can surprise him.”

“YES!” Octavia crowed, hugging Clarke around the neck tightly.

“Hey, kiddo, why don’t you go ask Harper to help you pick out a book to read, okay?” He said, pointing to the other librarian that was working that day. “I wanna talk to Clarke about something.”

The two adults stood up and watched Octavia run over to Harper, who smiled at her and immediately guided her towards the history section. “She asked me to read something about the Peloponnesian War to her the other day. I’m assuming that that is your doing?” Clarke gave him a bemused smirk, but it slid from her face. He ran a hand through his hair, because he was likely shooting her an overtly serious look, and he didn’t want her to think that she was getting fired or whatever. “What’s wrong? Do you need me to work on Halloween night or something? I mean, I did have plans, but I can cancel them to take O out for trick or treating for a while.”

“No, it’s not that. She actually has a sleepover that night with a classmate that I haven’t told her about yet. Her friend Jill’s mom called and asked if O could do trick or treating with her and Jill and then spend the night. I was actually going to tell you when it got closer that Jill’s mom was going to take her home from school, so you can get a few hours off early.”

“Oh, she’ll love that.” She pursed her lips, studying him. “You could use the night off.” She told him before walking over to shelves of new releases near the entrances.

“Excuse me?” He asked her, following her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’re twenty-seven and single, and you got stuck with a little kid through an unfortunate event. You need a night off, and Halloween is the best night to have off. Have a little twenties-something, single guy fun. Go to a bar, get white-girl-wasted, and hookup with some chick. I expect to see you on Monday in good spirits.” She winked at him before grabbing a book of the shelf. She flipped it open to read the inside flap.

“Did you just tell me that I need to get ‘ _white-girl-wasted_ ’ and laid?” He asked her, completely shocked by her bluntness. She giggled, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

“I mean…I didn’t say that you _needed_ to get white-girl-wasted and laid, but now that you say it… _yes_.” She shut the book and held it out to him. “Can I get this out under your card? I don’t have an account with this library, and they don’t have books like this at the college library.” He just stared at her.

“You can’t tell your boss that he needs to get laid. How is that professional? Did you tell your professors that they needed to get laid?” She rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around the book so that it was pressed against her chest.

“The ones I babysat for? Yeah,” she shrugged her shoulders. “You get a good relationship going when they come home to find you in the bathtub in your underwear, combing baby poo and puke out of your hair, because their nine month old decided to Linda-Blair out both ends all over you…” She scrunched her nose at him. “That happened twice to me. I’m so happy to be a nanny for someone Octavia’s age, because she’s less likely to poop and puke all over me.”

She moved past him, and he shook his head, completely shocked and amused by the woman in front of him. “I’m afraid to ask what white-girl-wasted even means…” He said, trailing behind her as she made her way to the front desk.

“You don’t know what that means?” She laughed, her head falling back, and in that moment, he forgot who she was and who he was. He was just a twenty-seven year old, single guy who was talking to a beautiful woman. He shook his head, going around the other side of the desk. She sobered and looked at him, her cheeks red from her laughter. “It means those slurring, stumbling, ridiculous girls who scream at the top of their lungs that their ‘just so fucking drunk, like oh, my God!’” She said the last of it sarcastically, shaking her head.

“Speaking from experience?” He leaned on his forearms on the desk, closing some of the distance between them. She rolled her eyes, looking away from him.

“No. I can hold my liquor, thank you.” She pointed at him.

“I’m sure you can.” He chuckled, and she responded by sticking her tongue out at him. “Ehh, I’m a lightweight now. I haven’t been to a bar in three years.” He licked his bottom lip, shaking his head. “I get two six-packs at the store every now and again, and I only drink a beer once in a while. O’s always around, so I can’t exactly get drunk.”

“Well, I expect to come back on Monday to you being miserable, because you were still hung over when Octavia came back home.” It was his turn to roll his eyes at her, holding a hand out to her. She grinned, handing the book to him.

As Bellamy took the book out under his account, Clarke pulled her phone out of her pocket, because it started buzzing. “No phones in the library, Miss Griffin.” He warned her, printing the receipt with the due date for the book and putting it inside the book.

“I’m not going to answer it. It’s my roommate. She knows I’m working, so she’s probably not expecting me to pick up, just wanting to leave a message. It’s likely about dinner.” She said, pressing the volume button on the side to turn down the volume of the buzzing.

“It is due three weeks from now.” He told her, holding the book out to her. She smiled at him, thanking him. “It’s under my name, so don’t lose it or anything.” He gave her a pointed look before grinning. She winked at him, and he bit his lip. She was a pretty girl, exactly his type. Well, to be honest, before he got custody of Octavia, his type was girl, with boobs and a vagina and a face. It didn’t matter which girl, because in college and grad school, his sole focus on the future was related to getting his degree in history and then in library science. He wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, so he ‘dated’ (also known as slept around), but he wasn’t actively looking for a girlfriend. Now, he was twenty-seven, and he was at the stage of his life when it would be nice to have a girlfriend to spend his nights with. A nice, pretty girl like Clarke was exactly the type of girl he would want in a girlfriend.

“Well, Mr. Blake, you know where I am most of the time, so I think you’ll have an easy time getting it back, huh?” Fuck. Well, just like that he remembered who she was to him. He’d forgotten that she was the nanny that he’d hired to care for his baby sister. He was her _boss_ , and he couldn’t date her. He looked away, squeezing his hand into a fist, letting it dangle at his side, out of her line of sight. _Focus, Bellamy_ , he had to remind himself. _Octavia_. Talk about something related to Octavia, the reason why she’s talking to you at all.

“Look, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” She furrowed her brow.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re bribing O with Frappuccinos and brownies to get her to behave in school?” She nodded.

“Yeah, it’s a behavior modification technique. It’s called a token economy system. I asked her what kind of things that she liked to eat, and she told me she loves brownies and vanilla milkshakes. It’s not bribing, per say. The idea behind this is that I’m focusing on rewarding the good behavior, so if she gets five stars in row, she gets a brownie and a vanilla bean Frappuccino from Starbucks. If she gets four stars, she gets just the brownie. Three stars, we watch a little television before doing homework. Since the token economy is new for her, I did it that way, but it’s usually picking a specific amount of good behavior and getting a specific reward when you meet it, like five stars means the brownie and the Frappuccino, and anything less means you get nothing but verbal praise for giving it a shot. It’s been going pretty well for being just a month. She got two weeks of three stars, then four stars, and then last week she got the fifth star. I’m sticking with this for three months before introducing the next stage.”

“What’s the next stage?”

“Well, that’s when you introduce bigger rewards, but she has to go longer between them. Like, say she got five stars. I’ll offer her the choice to go get her usual reward, or I can say she can add those stars to the bank. If she gets another five stars the next week, then she and I go get one of those FroYo cups with all the toppings and such and then we might rent a movie to watch that Friday night instead of working on homework. Then after another three months, I’ll offer another chance to save her stars for an even bigger reward. So, basically her earning fifty stars means I’ll take her to the beach for the day sometime over the summer. Stuff like that.”

Bellamy had to admit that it sounded like a good game plan. He still didn’t like was the fact that she was giving his sister caffeine. He said as much to her, and she laughed hard, shaking her head at him. “What?”

“It’s a vanilla bean Frappuccino, Bellamy. It’s basically a vanilla milkshake. There’s no caffeine it. The café vanilla Frappuccino has caffeine, which is what you’re probably thinking of.”

“Oh, okay. I still don’t like that she’s getting that much sugar, but this happens on Fridays, right?” She nodded her head. “Okay, fine.”

“Are we good?” He nodded his head. “If you can’t get the whole day off for Halloween, do you think it would be possible to get the morning off for the parade? I know she’d love it. I’d stick around for the party, and then she’ll go home with Jill. Apparently, they’re making witches’ heads with apples or something?” She scrunched her nose. “Just remember to have a little fun that night, yeah?” She gave him a smile, and he rolled his eyes. She winked at him and backed away with her book. “I’m gonna go save Harper from Octavia. See you later, Bellamy. Oh, and if you can go to the parade, remember to wear a costume?” She disappeared, only to return a few moments later with Octavia, who chattered to him about the history book she took out. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed how Clarke was avoiding his gaze, instead, staring at the book she held in her hands. He shook it off, though, smiling at his sister and blowing a kiss to her as the two of them left the library.


	3. Look at him. He knows he's pretty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke goes food shopping with her best friend and roommate, Raven, and her girlfriend, Lexa. While talking about the embarrassing incident at work where she basically told him to get drunk and have sex with someone, she and Raven bump into Bellamy and Octavia, and, well, Raven is Raven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to dive into Clarke’s head for this chapter.

Raven released a guttural laugh, her head falling back, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, in the middle of the bread aisle. “Shut up!” Clarke groaned, throwing out a hand to smack her roommate on the arm. It only made the Latina laugh harder, snorting. “You sound like an idiot.” She complained, storming away from her friend to grab the whole wheat and white breads that they liked to eat. She all but through the bread into the cart. “It’s not that funny!” She whined. Raven finally began sobering up, wiping at her cheeks with the backs of her hands.

“You told _your boss_ that he needed to get drunk and laid!” She bit her lip as another set of giggles filled her up, and she just barely managed to hold them.

Clarke flipped her off. She was embarrassed. It wasn’t like she intended to tell Bellamy to go out to a bar to drink and then have sex with someone. He was only a few years older than her, so when Octavia wasn’t around, she almost forgot that he wasn’t just some guy. He was her _boss_. When he called her out for being completely inappropriate, she played it off as if she’d say this kind of stuff to former parents that she worked with. That was a complete lie, but he seemed to buy it. She could barely look him in the eye after that, and he didn’t appear to be that upset over it, joking with her about drinking, which is definitely _wouldn’t_ do with their hired help. “Not intentionally!” She chewed on her bottom lip, knowing she probably looked as red as a tomato.

“You told your _hot_ boss. No, correction, your _hot, young_ boss that he needed to _get drunk_ and _laid_.”

“I never said he was hot!” Clarke snapped, turning her back on Raven. He wasn’t that hot! She reached for a package of burger and hot dog rolls to toss into their cart. Okay, so maybe it was a lie. He was _extremely_ good-looking, but she was in a committed relationship with Lexa, and she wasn’t going to ruin that to hook up with the older brother of the little girl she was nannying for. She was happy with Lexa, and he was her boss. So, yeah!

“No, you didn’t.” Raven agreed, pushing the cart further down the aisle. “You said he was ‘a mildly attractive guy who’s only a few years older than me.’ _I_ said he was hot when Jasper pulled him up on Facebook.” She moved away from the cart to grab a bag of rice and a bag of quinoa to put in their cart. “He’s _fucking hot_ , Clarke.”

Clarke groaned, crossing her arms to glare at her roommate and best friend. “I hate you.” She said simply, an unamused look on her face.

“How does Lexa feel about the fact that you’re working for Bellamy Blake?” Raven asked her casually, making Clarke roll her eyes.

“She’s _fine_ with it.”

“Oh, I’m sure she is fine, because she doesn’t know how good-looking Bellamy is.”

“He’s not that good-looking!” Clarke exclaimed. She winced at the high-pitched voice she used, which was her defensive, lying voice, and Raven gave her a look that said _I-told-you-so_.

“Who’s not ‘that good-looking?’” Lexa asked as she walked up, four boxes of cereal in her hands.

“No one,” Clarke said at the same time as Raven said, “Clarke’s boss.” Lexa cocked an eyebrow at Clarke. The three of them stood there, silent, and it was awkward, making Clarke twitch.

“Raven thinks that my boss is attractive.” She said after a few moments of awkward silence.

“Do you think that he’s attractive?” Lexa asked, leveling her gaze on Clarke.

“No!” She squeaked, and she winced, because there was her defensive, lying voice again. “Okay, so, yes, he’s attractive, but I’m not interested in him. _Obviously_.”

“Obviously,” her girlfriend responded, nodding her head, eyes narrowed slightly. Lexa’s cool aloofness sometimes made Clarke uncomfortable, because she had a tendency to wear her emotions on her sleeve. Her girlfriend was definitely _not_ one to get overly emotional. She expressed her feelings enough to validate that she was happy with their relationship. Clarke, on the other hand, was the type to show her affection both physically and emotionally all of the time. It took some getting used to, and now she could read her girlfriend’s facial expressions rather easily. The one currently on Lexa’s face was that of her unamused, slightly perturbed expression. “I got _two_ boxes of the organic granola.” Lexa’s eyes traced over to Raven before returning to Clarke. “I also got the two boxes that you guys asked me to grab.” She placed the boxes into the cart. “What else do I need to get?”

“Would you be a doll and go get the cookies?” Raven gave Lexa an overly sweet smile. “Double-stuffed Oreos, cake-batter Oreos, mint-chocolate Oreos, and the vanilla Oreos, please! Thanks.” Lexa narrowed her eyes at Raven, but didn’t open her mouth. She just nodded her head so slightly that if one wasn’t looking closely, he or she would’ve missed it. She turned on her heel, leaving the two of them alone in the aisle again. “Jesus! Did you see the look she gave me when she talked about getting a second box of granola? I ate a bowl of it _one fucking time_.” Raven whistled, shaking her head.

“She was just being nice. She got you some, since your one bowl was kind of a big bowl…and it was one of the times that Lexa slept over and didn’t have breakfast in the morning.”

“I didn’t know it was _her granola_!” Raven threw her hands up in the air. “Also, she was kind of a bitch about the Bellamy thing.”

“Well, you were the one who told her that my boss was hot. That didn’t need to happen.”

“It’s not healthy to lie in a relationship, Clarke. You and I learned that the hard way.” Clarke blanched at that, thinking back to how she and Raven had met.

“I’m not lying. It’s not like I would do what Finn did to us.” She said rigidly, moving away from Raven, who sighed loudly as she pushed the cart after her. She was in the process of texting Lexa, telling her that they were moving on to the chips, pretzel, and soda aisle, so she didn’t realize that she was walking into someone until she was literally slamming into the person’s back. “Oh, shit! Sorry!” She glanced up, and the color slipped from her face when she realized _who_ she bumped into.

“Clarke!” She tore her eyes from Bellamy’s surprised face and focused instead on the small girl who was wrapping her arms around her middle.

“Hey, Octavia.” It had only been about an hour since they saw each other last. She knew her face was probably red as can be, and she hoped like hell that Bellamy hadn’t heard the conversation that she had been having about him.

“You’re right, Clarke.” Clarke glanced over her shoulder at Raven, pleading with her eyes for her best friend to _not say something stupid_ , unwrapping her arms slowly from the hug she’d been giving Octavia. “He’s totally not hot.” She squeezed her eyes shut, wanting the ground to open up and swallow her whole. “He’s fu-- _freaking_ god-like. Hello, Clarke’s sexy as _Hell_ -o Kitty boss. I’m Raven, the best friend.” Raven winked at Bellamy, extending a hand to him. Clarke was looking anywhere but at Bellamy, but she heard him clear his throat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him take Raven’s hand. She was just relieved that Raven had been smart enough to change her language in front of Octavia.

“Bellamy.” His voice was deep and gruff, and it momentarily did things to her that it shouldn’t be doing. _LEXA. YOU HAVE LEXA_. She squeezed her hand into a fist.

“Former best friend. Now sworn enemy.” Clarke whimpered under her breath. “Please excuse Raven. I’m mortified. There is a reason why I usually don’t bring her out in public.”

“Oh, relax, would you?” Raven rolled her eyes. “Look at him. He knows he’s pretty.” Clarke choked on her own tongue. Holy hell, did she hate Raven at the moment. “But, as the best friend, I feel that I have to explain to you that Clarke was not the one who was originally referencing your level of attractiveness. That was me…and Jasper. He’s got a bit of a man-crush on you.”

Bellamy let out a laugh, obviously amused by the whole situation, and Raven’s explanation seemed to relieve the awkwardness of the moment. Clarke released a breath and glanced up at Bellamy, who was eyeing her with a small smirk. _Fuck_. “So that explains why he asked me what color underwear I usually wear. And, if I’m more of a boxers or a boxer-briefs kind of guy.” Raven clapped, shaking her head in amusement, a huge smile on her face.

“I am so grateful that you told me that.” The Latina pulled her phone from her pocket. She tapped something into her phone before glancing up at Bellamy. She traced her eyes over his frame in a way that made Clarke extremely uncomfortable (and slightly territorial, but why was she feeling territorial? She had _Lexa_.). “My money’s on black boxer-briefs. Am I right? Tan skin always looks good with black.” She paused, waving a hand at her own ensemble of skinny jeans and a black tank, both of which fit her like a second skin. “And the boxer-briefs are tight enough to leave just enough to the imagination, but loose enough to let the boys breathe.”

“RAVEN!” Clarke punched her friend in the arm.

“Fu—ahh!” Again, Raven stopped herself from cursing in front of Octavia, who was looking between the three adult with her brow furrowed. “Damn it! Jake Griffin was such a jerk for making you take boxing lessons.” She pointed at Clarke, who frowned at the mention of her father.

“Jake Griffin was a smart man for making me take boxing lessons since I was fourteen. I can kick major butt.” She glanced over at Octavia. “But violence is never the answer, Octavia. Remember that, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever. You just punched her, and it was awesome!”

“So, black boxer-briefs?” Raven said, earning a glare from Clarke. Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, and Clarke couldn’t help the small smile that slipped on her face at the reddening of his cheeks and ears in embarrassment. She tried to fight the smile by tugging her bottom lip into her mouth. She sucked some air in through her nose when she saw his eyes slipped down to her mouth for a moment before he purposely turned his gaze away from her, staring at the assorted bags of chips and pretzels on the shelves.

“I can tell you all of my secrets yet, Raven.” He said, releasing an embarrassed laugh. “That’s talk for when we’ve known each other for twenty minutes, not just five.” Clarke glared at her best friend. Raven just smirked as she rested her arms on the handle bar of the cart.

“Clarke’s _lover_ is pretty fierce, but something tells me that you could take care of yourself.” She said, cocking her head to the side. “May the best one win…” She nodded her head at Bellamy. “My money’s on you, buddy.”

“Raven!” Clarke was beyond livid with her friend at the moment. Raven had always made her dislike and _distrust_ for Lexa known, but this was the first time she overtly said that she was hoping for Clarke to hook up with someone else. Plus, the way she said lover, Lexa’s chosen word over that of girlfriend, was almost snarky and sarcastic. She was making fun of it and Clarke’s relationship with Lexa. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, so, I think that we should probably be going. See you tomorrow,” Bellamy said, grabbing Octavia’s hand in his. “Say ‘bye, O.”

“Bye!” Octavia grinned and waved at both Raven and Clarke.

“Oh, um, Bellamy, wait.” Clarke ran a hand through her hair, digging her nails into her palm as she tightened her fisted hand. “So, I was wondering if Octavia could sleepover at mine the night before Halloween. That way, she and I could do some last minute alterations to her Halloween costume. It would also be a surprise. Right, O?” The little girl grinned, looking up at Bellamy.

“Please, Bell!? It would be so much fun!”

“Clarke throws the best sleepovers!” Raven said, grinning. “Lots of junk food, great movies, dance parties, pillow fights, awesome drinks. Wait…half of that is not age-appropriate for the minor. We will make virgin-drinks.” She tapped her fingers together. “And, Disney movies and music it is…”

Clarke rolled her eyes, returning her focus to Bellamy again. “What do you say? Think you could handle getting dinner and being on your own on Thursday night?”

“Um, yeah, sure…” He nodded his head. “’Bye, Clarke. Raven, it was certainly an interesting experience meeting you.” He turned away, pushing his cart while holding onto Octavia’s hand. The little girl turned around and waved, a huge grin on her face as he dragged her away from them.

“Fuck, Clarke. If you don’t tap that, I’m disowning you as a friend.”

“You’re such a bitch, Raven. What the hell is wrong with you? He’s my boss! I’m in a relationship!”

“Look. I know you’re ‘happy’ or whatever with Lexa, but the girl’s a psycho. You deserve someone better, and he’s definitely better.”

“Why, because he has a penis?” Clarke was bisexual, so she was able to appreciate and was attracted to both sexes, whereas Raven was completely heterosexual.

“Oh, this isn’t about him being male over her being a female.” Raven rolled her eyes. “If he was a _she_ , I’d still say go with Bellamy than Lexa. One, he has a full-time job. Two, he has his own place. Three, he’s great with kids, so he’s definitely daddy-material. Four, he’s hot as fuck. Five, he seems pretty nice. Six, he’s got a good sense of humor, because he didn’t get all defensive or uncomfortable with me asking him about his undies. Seven, he’s older, but not too old, so he’s already established. Oh, and did I mention _he’s hot as fuck_?”

“Just because Lexa’s still in school, lives with a roommate— _just like me, I might add_ —and she’s not usually around kids, it doesn’t mean that she’s not a good life partner. Plus, Lexa is beautiful and sexy as hell.”

“Yeah, she looks good, but she’s cold, controlling, and she doesn’t appreciate my unique sense of humor.”

“You scared Bellamy. Don’t pretend like he’s a better match, because he didn’t run away screaming from you guessing what kind of underwear he wears.”

“I was so right, but he didn’t want to deny it. Plus, he was totally sending some major sex-me vibes your way.”

“He was not.”

“ _Yes_ , he was. He was ready to pounce when you were biting your lip.”

“Shut up, Raven. I’m happy with Lexa. She’s not controlling. She’s not cold. And, you’re honestly not that funny.” Clarke moved away from Raven, grabbing some chips, pretzels, and other assorted snack foods to add to their cart.

“I’m hilarious. Everyone thinks so. Ask anybody.”

“Oh, I will. I bet Wick thinks you’re the funniest person in the world. How’s he doing?” Clarke asked, trying to be snarky, and it had the desired effect. Raven immediately shut up after calling her a bitch, and the two of them went about the rest of their shopping trip in relative silence. As they were paying for their food, this time of Clarke’s card, with Raven already on her phone, transferring some money from her bank account to Clarke’s, the two girls gave each other a small smile. The smile slipped from Raven’s face when Lexa wrapped a possessive arm around Clarke’s middle when a guy walked by and smiled. Clarke just shook her head at Raven, silently telling her to keep her opinions to herself.


	4. Vita brevis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It probably isn't a good idea to text your boss pictures of yourself in the morning after a sleepover, but that's what Clarke did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize to all of my guest readers who might want to comment on this story. People suck and have ruined it for you, because they are disrespectful and rude. I hope you’re enjoying this fic! This chapter’s a bit longer than the others.  
> In the event that you want to know where Octavia and Clarke’s Halloween costumes are inspired by, check out these websites:  
> http://www.wikihow.com/Make-Fairy-Wings  
> http://www.marthastewart.com/267568/new-butterfly-costume  
> http://www.diynetwork.com/how-to/make-and-decorate/crafts/how-to-make-a-fairy-princess-halloween-costume -- Octavia’s costume and their crowns  
> http://cdn-s3-2.wanelo.com/product/image/2572579/original.jpg -- Clarke’s dress (but white, not beige)

After dropping off Octavia at school on the Thursday before Halloween, Clarke came back to the Blake apartment, alone, to pack up some things of Octavia’s two sleepovers. She packed a bag for the little girl, complete with an assortment of stuffed animals for her to snuggle with. As she left Octavia’s room, she paused, picking up one of the framed photographs that lined the top of her bookshelf. It was a picture of a much younger Octavia—she was maybe three or four—sitting in the lap of Bellamy, who looked to be around Clarke’s current age. Octavia was giving a wide, toothy grin to the camera, her eyes squeezed so tightly shut that they were mere slits above her reddened, chubby cheeks. Bellamy was looking down at his sister rather than at the camera directly, with the soft half-smile that he reserves for Octavia when he doesn’t think anyone is looking. His cheeks were freckled, and his hair was cut short. She liked his hair short, but she preferred it longer, curled around his forehead and ears as it was now. Well, maybe he could afford a haircut, and she made a mental note to tell him so when she saw him next. Her stomach clenched, though, because they’d hardly spoken much beyond the safe topic of Octavia, because Clarke was beyond embarrassed by her accidentally telling him to get drunk and have sex with some girl, and then having Raven tell him that the two of them were discussing how attractive he was and then try to guess his underwear choices. She swallowed, putting the picture frame back down where she found it before letting her eyes trace over the other framed images.

The other framed photographs that lined the bookshelf top included a picture of a smiling couple (the woman looking so much like Bellamy and Octavia that it made her heart skip a beat, because she knew that this was their mother, and she was beautiful, just like them), a picture of the same couple holding a wrapped bundle in their arms, a picture of the woman holding her arms out to a baby who appeared to be taking her first steps (both with excited expressions on their faces), and, finally, a picture of Bellamy, Octavia, their mom, and Octavia’s dad outside of what appeared to be a school (Octavia was holding a sign that said “My first day at Pre-K!”). She ran her fingers over the pictures, tears filling her eyes as she took in the images of the happy family who were struck with tragedy not too long after these pictures were taken. She wiped at the stray tear that slipped down her cheek, grabbing the bag from the ground where she left it beside her and exiting Octavia’s room.

She left Octavia’s bag in her car, in the trunk, before heading to the store. She didn’t have any Friday classes, and her earlier Thursday morning class was canceled, so she figured she’d be fine with skipping her other class. She then headed back to her apartment to begin the process of making hers’ and Octavia’s Halloween costumes. The little girl was going to be helping her later with the decorative aspect, but it was Clarke who was going to be doing the ‘hard labor’ that the little girl couldn’t do. That meant, it was her job to make two sets of wings (a large set for herself and a smaller set for the little girl) out of wire, which she then wrapped with glittery white washi tape to protect both them and the stockings that she was using to make the wings. By the time it was time for her to pick up Octavia from school, she’d constructed to sets of undecorated wings, that would be attached to the elastic arm holes once she got Octavia’s measurements and Raven had gotten home to help measure her. She’d also constructed their floral crowns. Octavia’s crown was of purple and yellow flower garlands with purple and gold pearl strands twisted within the flowers, whereas Clarke’s was light blue and white garlands with dark blue and white pearl strands. She made two ribbon and pearl trains to hang off of the floral crowns, as well.

When she and Octavia arrived back at the apartment, Clarke sat the little girl at the kitchen table with her afternoon snack and her Halloween-themed homework. When the two of them finished it, she measured the little girl’s arms for the clear elastic armholes to attach to the wings, as well as settled the long black tutu beneath her arms and over her torso to measure the correct length for the ribbon to tie on the front of the tutu to make it into a halter top. The two of them then began to spray the wings with colored fabric paints, the end result of Octavia’s wings being a dark purple on the outer edges and yellow centers, and Clarke’s being ombre, starting with white at the top and gradually darkening until it was dark blue at the bottom of the wings. The two of them then sprayed silver glitter mist on the wings and the crowns so that they shimmered prettily.

While their wings dried, Clarke and Octavia then designed their floral belts, using an assortment of large and small flowers and the pearl strands. Octavia’s belt had large dark purple flowers, with smaller light purple and yellow flowers, along with the purple and gold pearl strands. Clarke’s belt had large blue flowers, with smaller white and light blue flowers, and the blue and white pearl strands. Clarke did the last minute adjustments to Octavia’s black tutu dress, with the floral belt fitted in place. She even sprayed the glitter mist on the front of the dresses and their belts to make them glimmer in the light. Raven came in just as they were about to finish decorating the wings, and with her help, they hot-glued the multicolored glass gems to the wings, along with lining the edges of the wings with pearl strands. Raven helped Clarke with the measurements for the armholes to attach to her wings, and they were done.

“What are you going to wear with the wings, Clarke?” Raven asked as the two of them ate pizza and watched Disney movies on the living room television.

“My white lace dress.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s short enough that I can dance in it tomorrow night, but still appropriate to wear to Octavia’s school tomorrow for the parade.”

“Is Bell going to go to the parade, Clarke?” Octavia asked around a mouthful of pizza.

“I don’t know, O, but if he can’t make it, we will go visit him at the library to show off your pretty costume.” Bellamy had texted her that he was going to make it to the parade earlier in the week, but he wanted it to be a surprise for Octavia.

“What about Jill’s?”

“Well, if he can’t come to the parade, I will take you to visit Bellamy at the library, and then I will drive you over to Jill’s to go trick or treating.”

“Okay!” They went back to enjoying their pizza and movie.

When they were halfway through a second Disney movie, and digging into their ice cream sundaes, there was a knock at the door, before it swung open, revealing Lexa. “Oh…there’s a child here.” Octavia furrowed her brow, looking from Lexa to Clarke and back again.

Clarke smiled at Lexa when she came over, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she leaned over the couch. “Lexa, this is Octavia. Octavia, this is my girlfriend, Lexa.”

“Hello, Octavia.” Lexa nodded at the little girl.

“Hi.” Octavia whispered shyly, snuggling closer to Clarke’s side.

“So, remind me why Octavia’s here, again?” Lexa said, casually. “Is your boss coming to pick her up or something?”

“Nope! Octavia’s sleeping over so that she can surprise Bellamy tomorrow. We don’t want him to see our costumes, right, O?”

“Right!”

“Oh.” Lexa moved around the couch, reaching for a slice of pizza. She sat down on the floor at Clarke’s feet, looking up at her girlfriend. “What are you two going as tomorrow?” She bit into the slice of pizza.

“Fairy princesses.” Clarke smiled at the little girl. “We finished decorating our wings today.”

“Actually, I’m going to be the Fairy Queen of the Butterflies. You can be the Garden Fairy Princess, Clarke.”

“Oh, that sounds perfect!” Clarke chuckled, reaching out with a napkin to wipe at a stray dollop of sauce on Octavia’s chin.

“Raven, are you going to be a fairy, too?” Octavia asked, turning her head to look up at the woman seated on her other side.

“I’m actually going to be a witch. I’ve got the pointy boots and hat and a broom ready to go!”

“Hmm…as the Fairy Queen of the Butterflies, I’m making you the Princess of Garden Magic!”

“Well, thank you, Your Highness!” Raven chuckled, mussing Octavia’s dark hair and making the little girl giggle.

“Lexa, what are you going to be?”

“I’m going to be a commander of an army.” She gave Octavia a tight smile. “Well, there’s a bit more to it than that, but that is essentially what I’m being.”

“Oh…okay.” Octavia chewed on her bottom lip.

“Every Queen needs someone to lead her army, right, Lexa?” Clarke poked Lexa’s side with her toes.

“Yes, of course…” Lexa responded, looking away from Clarke to bite her pizza. Clarke winced internally, because she knew it was going to be a long night.

* * *

 

Bellamy woke up to an extremely quiet apartment on Halloween morning. He started making coffee, leaning against the counter in the kitchen, running a hand through his hair while he checked his email on his phone. As he was reading through an email from his bosses at the library, his phone buzzed with an incoming text message.

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
6:30 AM  
Don’t forget your costume!

She finished off her text message with a smiling emoji. He sighed, pouring some coffee into a mug, adding cream and sugar, before responding to her text.

 _To: Clarke Griffin_  
6:31 AM  
I didn’t forget. How’s O?

He took a few sips of coffee, adding some toast to the toaster while he waited for her response.

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
6:32 AM  
She’s fine. She had a great time last night. We finished our costumes, ate pizza and sundaes, and we watched Disney movies. She passed out at about nine-thirty. 

She sent another text message with a picture attached to it. It revealed Clarke laying on a pillow, with Octavia’s head on her upper stomach, with an arm draped across her hips. Octavia’s legs were stretched out, laying across Raven’s back, who was clutching a pillow to her chest. It looked like Clarke had an arm lying beneath her neck, a thin, slender arm, with a feminine hand tangled in her blonde curls, but the owner of the arm was out of the shot, so he wasn’t sure who this unknown arm belonged to. The group of them appeared to have fallen asleep on the floor, bracing their pillow against the couch.

Clarke wasn’t wearing any makeup, and she looked _beautiful_. Seeing his little sister tangled up with her made him swallow hard. He put his phone down for a moment, running a hand through his messy hair, trying to will his heart to stop beating so quickly. He picked up the phone, studying the image again. He didn’t know how to respond to the picture.

 _To: Clarke Griffin_  
6:37 AM  
She’s going to be miserable when I finally get her on Saturday, huh?

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
6:37 AM  
Well, she’ll be reeling from a sugar coma on Saturday morning, that’s for sure.

He let out a deep breath, telling himself to ignore the image of a beautiful, makeup-free Clarke.

 _To: Clarke Griffin_  
6:40 AM  
Cute pajamas…

Well, _fuck_. He didn’t mean to send that. He put the phone down and focused on rubbing butter into his toast, cursing himself for saying something completely inappropriate. He couldn’t see much of her pajamas, just the pale yellow tank top with a picture of Minnie Mouse kissing Mickey Mouse’s cheek, and Mickey was sporting a pair of large heart eyes. His phone was silent for a while, and he figured that she was trying to figure out a way to tell him to stop being a creeper boss and that comments like that were sexual harassment. He was halfway through his first slice of toast when his phone buzzed again.

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
6:50 AM  
You didn’t even get to see the whole set! The bottoms are even cuter!

The text came with another picture, and this time, it was of Clarke standing in front of a full-length mirror in what appeared to be her bedroom. Her blonde curls were messily tossed over one shoulder, and a white strap was hanging off of the shoulder of the arm she was holding her camera with, along with a band of white fabric hanging out from underneath the pale yellow shirt, indicating that she was wearing layers ( _because she wasn’t wearing a fucking bra!_ He could see the slight shape of _her nipples_ through the tank tops). She was wearing a pair of dark blue shorts with white and yellow polka dots—no, not polka dots, but what appeared to be the shape of tiny Minnie Mouse heads, complete with bows. Her fingernails and toenails were painted a frosty light blue, and she had a blue, white, and yellow flower on ring fingernail and the nails of her big toes. There was also black swirly ink on the inside of her wrist and on the top of her foot. He couldn’t make out what the tattoos were of.

After studying her, and the soft smile on her face, he then let his eyes comb over the rest of the image. In the background, he could see and easel and a bookshelf filled with painting supplies, blank canvases leaning up against the front of it. Her bed was a large and perfectly made, aside from what appeared to be missing pillows, with the decorative pillows lying on the center of the bed, pushed out of the way in the pursuit of the pillows she slept on. The blankets on the bed were a rich green, and the walls were painted a soft sage color. The art, though, the art on her walls were bright swirls of color that were stunningly beautiful, and he just knew that they were _hers_. Everything in the room was neatly in its place, aside from a small pile of clothing that he recognized as the jeans and the pink top she’d worn the day before to pick up Octavia.

He swallowed, trying to think of how to respond to the picture. He figured he should turn the conversation away from her clothing, because it was seriously weird of him to comment on how she looked, especially because she was seeing someone (he remembered Raven had said something about a _lover_ ) and he was her _boss_.

 _To: Clarke Griffin_  
6:52 AM  
Um, the shorts are cute, too. Nice artwork. Yours? And tats??? Really?

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
6:52 AM  
Yes, the art is mine. And, yes, I have tattoos. Why’s that weird?

She also sent him two pictures, close ups of her tattoos. The first was of the one on her wrist. It was of what appeared to be a paintbrush painting her skin. The second was of the words on her foot. _Vita brevis, ars longa_

 _To: Clarke Griffin_  
6:57 AM  
Hippocrates. Life is short, and art long. Vita brevis, ars longa, occasio praeceps, experimentum periculosum, iudicium difficile.

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
6:58 AM  
Life is short, and art long, opportunity fleeting, experience perilous, and decision difficult. 

_From: Clarke Griffin_  
6:58 AM  
You can quote the Aphorismi? No one ever knows what my tattoo is referencing.

 _To: Clarke Griffin_  
7:00 AM  
I was a Classics major in college, and then went on to study library science as my master’s. I planned on getting my Ph.D. in History, specifically focusing my research on Ancient Civilizations. I’m surprised you decided to get a tattoo of a quote from the Father of Western Medicine.

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
7:03 AM  
When I got the tattoo, I was a freshman in college, and I was still pre-med, taking art classes as an elective. The tattoo was related to my passion for art and the fact that it was by Hippocrates made me feel like it was still a reference to medicine. It still means a lot to me—the entire phrase—because life IS short, and the phrase is a validation for my decision to switch from medicine to art and art therapy.

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
7:04 AM  
Did I read that correctly? You PLANNED on getting your Ph.D.? Does that mean you’re not going to go back?

 _To: Clarke Griffin_  
7:04 AM  
Doctoral programs are expensive and time consuming. KIDS are even more expensive and time consuming.

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
7:05 AM  
Don’t let Octavia be an excuse for not following your passion. You want to be a role model for her, right? That means following your dreams. If your dream is to get your Ph.D. in History, then I say go for it. She’ll love you for it, because it will show her the value of a good education and following your heart.

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
7:05 AM  
Plus, that’s the beauty of having a nanny! I’m here to help out with the time consuming part of raising a kid.

 _To: Clarke Griffin_  
7:06 AM  
You’re not a therapist yet, Griffin, so I’m gonna ignore your ‘words of wisdom.’ Downside of having a nanny is the COST of having a nanny. Go pay attention to my kid.

 _To: Clarke Griffin_  
7:06 AM  
Shit…that was weird. I feel weird. Was that weird for you? She’s not my kid…but she is…

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
7:07 AM  
There’s nothing weird about it. You might not be her father, but you are her parent. You’re doing a good job, too. 

_From: Clarke Griffin_  
7:07 AM  
Octavia’s eating breakfast. She’s fine. And I’d hardly say that I’m costing you that much. We both know I’m cheap!

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
7:08 AM  
Shit, if Raven were privy to this conversation, she’d make some kind of crack at me calling myself cheap, so I feel the need to preface that with ‘as a nanny!’ Anyways, I should get going. I have to get us both ready for the parade. See you there! 

Bellamy stared at the conversation they had. It went from slightly (read: completely) inappropriate _flirting_ (were they flirting?) to a deep conversation about their passions and career plans and the fact that Bellamy isn’t biologically a dad, but still a parent. He didn’t know what to make of this girl—no, _woman_ —who was helping him care for his baby sister. He was starting to think that she was right when she told him that he needed to get laid, like a normal twenty-seven year old guy. Once he got laid, he’d stop thinking that his sister’s _nanny_ was good girlfriend material.

* * *

 

Mrs. Indra’s fourth grade class was the first of the fourth grade classes. They were in line, just behind the last third grade class, the second to last grade in the Halloween parade. Octavia was going to be leading her class, holding on to Mrs. Indra’s hand, as well as the hand of the person behind her (likely her best friend, Jill). Clarke was waiting amongst the crowd of parents, chatting with Jill’s mom about how she had Octavia’s bag in her car, ready to go for the sleepover later. She was also the only adult dressed up, but she didn’t care. She and Octavia looked _damn good_ in her opinion.

“Clarke!” She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Bellamy call out to her. She glanced over her shoulder, smiling when she saw him walking up in a gray suit, with a black shirt, red tie, and a red handkerchief sticking out of the pocket. On his heat was a black fedora hat. He looked _sexy as hell_. She could practically hear Raven’s whistle in her head. “So, I take it we _didn’t_ have to wear a costume?” He asked when he got closer, cocking an eyebrow at him. She blushed, looking down at her feet at the silver ballet flats she’d worn.

“ _No_ , but you have to admit that it is fun to dress up!” She said, looking back up at him. He chuckled, shaking his head at her. He let his eyes trace over her costume. She felt his gaze down to her bones, making her stomach twist. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, blushing even harder.

“You look pretty.” He said quietly. The bodice of her white dress was snug against her chest, accentuating her curves without being inappropriate for a school setting. She left her blonde hair in loose curls, beneath the floral crown, adding a pearl necklace and earrings, along with body glitter on her chest and arms. The dress was loose and lacey, with a choppy hemline that fell at varying lengths, with the longest parts hitting her knees and the shortest at mid-thigh. Instead of doing bright, flashy makeup that is typically associated with fairy costumes, she’d instead settled for soft, more natural makeup to match her natural hair style. She did add a line of glittering stones above her eyebrows (along with the same stones over Octavia’s eyebrows and the lightest amount of makeup for the little girl), but that was the extent of her flashiness. “So, are you a fairy or something?”

“Yes, well, more accurately, I’m the Garden Fairy Princess, as your sister, the Fairy Queen of the Butterflies dubbed me.” Clarke laughed, shrugging her shoulders.

“A Princess…how fitting.” Bellamy nodded, giving her a small smirk.

“I feel like I should be offended by that…” She pouted, but she couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice, indicating that she wasn’t really offended. “I’m choosing to take it as a compliment.” She reached up, fixing his slightly off-kilter tie. “You look handsome. I like the fedora.” She dropped her hand from his tie when she realized how intimate the act was—something a girlfriend did for her boyfriend. She also told him that he looked _handsome_. She was so dumb.

“Thanks, Princess.” She blushed at the new nickname he’d given her. “I had the fedora from a few years ago—the last time I dressed up at Halloween, I was a mobster. I had the suit…” He trailed off, clearing his throat, and she knew that he was referencing his mother and step-father’s funeral. “I, uh, shouldn’t bring a fake machine gun to a school, so I left that at home.” She nodded her head.

“Smart choice.”

“You know, I think it’s so sweet that you’re girlfriend’s so actively involved with Octavia lately, Bellamy,” Jill’s mom, Mrs. Byrne, told them, making Clarke flush bright red, and Bellamy to stammer.

“Oh, um, she’s _not_. She’s the, uh, nanny.” He cleared his throat, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

“I’m so sorry! I just assumed that you two were dating. You make quite the pretty pair.” Mrs. Byrne smiled at them.

They were saved from responding, because the parade of kids was coming. It took them a little while before Octavia’s class started to get close. The second her eyes landed on Bellamy, the little girl’s eyes grew wide and she began waving frantically at him. Clarke pulled out her phone, snapping pictures of the little girl as she proudly led the way for her class, walking beside Mrs. Indra. After the parade ended, the parents started heading in after the kids.

“Can you come inside? Or, do you have to get back to work?”

“I can stay for about ten minutes. Long enough to say hi to O and tell her how great she looks.” He looked down at his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets as the two of them began walking into the building. “You did a great job with the costume.”

“Thank you. She’s already told me that she wants to be a bird next year. I think I really got myself into trouble by making these damn wings.” She laughed. She shook her phone at him. “I’ll forward you the pictures, okay?”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” They arrived at Octavia’s classroom a few minutes later, and Clarke stepped back, taking pictures of Octavia and Bellamy hugging and giving each other kisses. She sent one of the pictures to Raven.

 _To: Hot Roomie Bitch_  
10:32 AM  
Shit...

Raven immediately texted her back a moment later.

 _From: Hot Roomie Bitch_  
10:32 AM  
You’re fucking screwed. I can see your ovaries exploding from here.

She was screwed. She was majorly crushing on her boss. This wasn’t good.


	5. You think I’m good looking, Princess?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy goes out with the boys to work on Clarke's recommendation that he get 'white-girl wasted and laid.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter! All Bellamy in this one.
> 
> I still haven't decided yet about the rating for this story, but for now, I'm going to make it Teen and Up. I think I'm going to reference things of a sexual nature, but I'm not sure if I'm going to include any actual description of sexual content at this time. For that reason, I'm making it a T rating.

Bellamy followed Miller and Murphy into the crowded bar. They were both dressed up as criminals, wearing striped jumpsuits and plastic chains with a ball attached to it hanging around their necks. Bellamy had a fake machine gun strapped to his person, and he figured that by the end of the night, all three men will have lost their accessories. Except his fedora. He better not lose his fedora (not only was that damn hat expensive, but he looked good in it, if he was being honest). The three of them made themselves further into the bar, smiling at the scantily-clad women that brushed past them.

“Tonight is going to be a good night.” Miller said, rubbing his hands together as a pretty brunette bit her lip and nodded at him as she made her way to the dance floor. Bellamy rolled his eyes when Miller waggled his eyebrows at them after the girl had disappeared into the crowd.

“Yeah, Blake’s finally found his balls.” Murphy responded, earning a push from Bellamy. He stumbled slightly, but quickly righted himself. “I’m just saying, you haven’t gotten laid in, like, _three_ years. It’s pathetic. You used to be the King of Fucking Around.”

“It hasn’t been three years. I get the occasional hookup here and there.” Bellamy said after flipping off Murphy. “I can’t bring girls back to the apartment anymore, because of O, and she’s only had a few sleepovers, so I don’t exactly get as many chances to hook up with random girls.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And, I’m not sure I want to just hook up.”

“Hold up. Is Bellamy Blake actually talking about wanting a _relationship_?” Miller clutched at his chest. “My heart literally just stopped. Murphy, is this real life?”

“No, this has to be some weird, fucked up, alternate universe where Blake has decided that he’s suddenly a relationship guy.”

“Fuck off, both of you.” Bellamy sighed, waving to get the bartender’s attention. He leaned his hip against the bar, looking around at the crowd. “We’re twenty-seven. I think we’re old enough to start thinking that there’s more to life than fucking random girls in the alleyways outside of a bar.” He said, smiling when the pretty, _female_ bartender arrived to take their drink orders. “I’ll take a Jack and Coke.” She flipped her red-brown hair over her shoulder, smiling widely at him.

“Sure thing, Mr. Capone.” She winked before turning to Miller and Murphy. They both ordered whatever beer was on tap, and the bartender left them once more.

“Yeah, no. You’re the only one who’s old here, Daddy-O.” Murphy smacked him on the back. Bellamy frowned, looking down at the bar. This was the second time that day that he was reminded of the fact that he was a _dad_. Well, as Clarke had said before, he wasn’t technically a dad, but a _parent_. If he didn’t have to be O’s guardian, would he be thinking about relationships at this moment? Or, would he still be playing the same, old game as the other guys?

The bartender dropped off their drinks, and she gave Bellamy another flirty smile before she was called away to take care of another customer. “Halloween is not the night to look for a girlfriend. It’s a night of debauchery and revelry. The bartender is giving you some real ‘fuck me’ eyes. I say you get on that, dude.” Miller nodded over his beer glass, taking a sip as he surveyed the crowd. “Mm, I’ve found tonight’s conquest.” Bellamy took a sip of his drink before casually turning to lean his back against the bar. Miller nodded in the direction of his chosen girl for the evening.

Bellamy watched as Miller wandered off, headed toward a pretty brunette girl, who was tall and waif-like, dressed like nurse. Moments later, Murphy patted him on his back as he headed off with a woman Bellamy recognized as Emori, someone Murphy worked with and casually hooked up with, leaving him alone. He sipped his Jack and Coke, surveying the crowd and feeling out of place. Three years before, he was just like his friends, drinking and looking for a woman to spend a few hours with before going their separate ways. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. His friends were enjoying being single. Now, he felt out of place. Alone in a bar full of kids, when he was decidedly _not_ a kid anymore. He sighed, finishing off his drink. He started to turn around, ready to leave behind the glass and head out of the bar, when he saw a flash of blonde hair at the outskirts of the crowded dance floor. She was dressed in the same outfit as that morning, her hair in loose curls, the floral crown resting slightly off-center as she raised her hands in the air and danced to the thumping music filling the bar.

He nodded to the bartender who had dropped off another drink for him. Well, he wasn’t going to just waste a drink, he thought to himself as he raised it to his lips. He turned around again, watching Clarke discreetly as he sipped his drink. She had a lightness about her that was entirely too refreshing, and she seemed to get him in a way that most other women didn’t. Plus, she knew about Octavia and wouldn’t run away screaming, like most twenty-somethings did. She was gorgeous, too, and he wasn’t going to deny that he was attracted to her. Something about the way that Raven made comments about him and how she was ‘rooting’ for him, he assumed that Clarke was feeling similarly enough to him. As he watched her laugh and dance with a group of her friends, he couldn’t help the thought that maybe it wouldn’t be weird for him to try and pursue something with him. Sure, she was his sister’s nanny, but if there was something there, then why not go for it? He was mature enough to adjust back to being her ‘boss’ if they lasted only a few weeks before things ended.

Bellamy pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, opening his messages to send Clarke a text.

 _To: Clarke Griffin_  
9:38 PM  
I’m out. I’m drinking. I make no promises about getting ‘white-girl wasted’ or getting laid.

He watched as she stopped dancing, groaning when she plunged her hand into the bodice of her chest (he was a red-blooded male; of course, he’d noticed that she had nice boobs), pulling her phone out. He watched as her phone glowed, lighting up her face, as she read the text. A small smile erupted on her face before she began tapping a message back to him.

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
9:38 PM  
Lame. Don’t be a loser. You have the apartment to yourself tonight. You need to take advantage of that.

He shook his head as he read her text. He sipped his drink before settling on a response to send her back.

 _To: Clarke Griffin_  
9:39 PM  
Oh, I plan on it. I’m going to walk around naked and go to the bathroom with the door open.

He watched her laugh as she read his message, sucking on her bottom lip as her fingers flew across the screen.

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
9:39 PM  
Whoa there, buddy! Save that kind of craziness for when O goes to college!

He was just about to respond when another text came in.

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
9:39 PM  
Seriously, Bellamy. You’re good looking. Start telling girls about the fact that you’re the sole guardian for your nine year old sister. You’ll be rolling in possible hookups.

Bellamy swallowed, looking up at her. She was scrunching her nose up at Raven, who had her arms thrown around some blonde guy’s neck and, from what he could tell, her tongue down his throat. Another brunette was grimacing at Clarke’s side.

 _To: Clarke Griffin_  
9:42 PM  
That kind of thing works on women? … You think I’m good looking, Princess?

He watched as she returned her gaze to her phone, smiling as she typed out a response.

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
9:43 PM  
Don’t be an asshole. Of course you’re attractive. Anyone with eyes can see that. And yes, women find that kind of thing sexy as hell. Responsibility and the Daddy-vibe gets girls hormones going. Evolutionarily speaking, they’d see you as a good potential mate

He cocked an eyebrow at her as her other brunette friend grabbed her hand, giving her a sour expression. Clarke shrugged, glancing at her phone to see if he responded, before looking up at the brunette again. She wrapped her arms around the brunette’s frame, pressing a kiss to the girl’s cheek, and he watched as a soft smile momentarily slipped onto the brunette’s face. He was shocked by how jealous he felt over the brunette’s ability to distract Clarke from their texting. He wanted her focus on _him_.

 _To: Clarke Griffin_  
9:45 PM  
I don’t know if believe it. I need proof.

She returned her gaze to her phone, and he watched as the brunette huffed and throw her hands up in the air. She pointed toward the direction of the bathrooms, leaving Clarke alone with Raven and the guy making out nearby. He watched as Clarke frowned, her gaze on the brunette who’d walked away. She then glanced back at her phone before typing a response.

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
9:46 PM  
Is this enough proof: before I realized you were the guy that Maya called me about, I got butterflies seeing you interact with Octavia

He smiled, downing the last of his drink and setting the empty glass onto the bar. He started toward her, but stopped when he felt his phone buzz in his hand. He glanced at it, chuckling when he read his message.

 _From: Clarke Griffin_  
9:47 PM  
Then I got to know you…try your best to not be a douche to girls tonight until after you’ve gotten them in bed???

He shook his head as he watched her shove her phone into her dress again before she began dancing by herself as she waited for her friend to return or for Raven to come up for air from her heated make out session. He started towards her again, stopping just behind her as she circled her hips to the beat of the music. He reached out, tapping her on the shoulder.

“Pretty girls shouldn’t have to dance alone, Princess,” he said, smiling when she jumped slightly before turning around. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw it was him.

“Oh, wow! Bellamy! What are you doing here?” Clarke asked, smacking at Bellamy’s arm, likely for startling her.

“Imagine my surprise when I look out in the crowd for a girl to tell all about my responsibilities as a single parent to my nine-year old sister, and I see her _nanny_ trying her own shot at getting white-girl wasted.” She blushed, looking down at her feet with her nose scrunched up. “I figured that I should say hello.”

“I’m not getting white-girl wasted.” She rolled her eyes at him when she finally lifted her gaze from the floor. “I’m actually designated driver this evening.”

“Oh, so that terrible dancing is courtesy of completely-sober Clarke?” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“See, this is the douche thing I was talking about!” She chided, shaking her head. “And, do you even know how to tie a tie?” She sighed, reaching up to adjust his tie for him. He stared down at her, and her hands froze after she finished fixing his tie. Her blue-green eyes traced his face, and he let his eyes carefully drop to her lips.

“Was it good that I stopped by to say hello?” His question was so low that he was afraid that she didn’t hear him, but her tongue darted out to coat her bottom lip. He saw the slight jerk of her head, and she responded with a nearly equally as quiet voice.

“Um, yeah, it was good…” Her hands fell from his tie to her sides, and he took another step forward. The fingers of his left hand brushed against the fingers of her right one, and she tore her gaze from his to settle on their fingers. One of her fingers hooked around his, and he swallowed.

“Can I buy you a drink?” His voice was slightly hoarse and gravely, and she raised her head, mouth open. He sucked in a deep breath, waiting to hear her response, but the brunette had returned, wrapping her arm around her waist and the other hand rested on her cheek, turning her head to face the brunette’s

The brunette pressed her mouth to Clarke’s, and Bellamy felt his stomach sink as the two women kissed before him. He stepped back, pulling his hand completely from Clarke’s. The brunette kissed Clarke fiercely, tugging on her bottom lip possessively before breaking the kiss. She then turned her cold gaze onto Bellamy, eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m Lexa, Clarke’s girlfriend. Well, I prefer the term lover, but people don’t always understand that our relationship is _exclusive_.” He gave the brunette a tight smile. He turned his gaze to study Clarke, tightening his jaw when he saw the flash of guilt settle over her features. “You are?”

“I’m Bellamy. Clarke’s my sister’s nanny.” He responded, tearing his eyes away from Clarke. “I was just saying a quick hello.”

“You’re Clarke’s boss…” Lexa stated, looking him up and down. He saw the way that her arm tightened around the blonde’s waist, pulling her more firmly against her side. He couldn’t blame the brunette. He had a possessive streak a mile long, and he didn’t like it when things (people) he deemed as _his_ were eyed by others. In the back of his mind, he realized that was probably why he was so against the idea of Octavia having a nanny when Maya first suggested it; she was his sister, and, therefore, his responsibility.

“Yes.” He knew that she wasn’t looking for a response, but he gave her one anyways. “Right, so, it was nice seeing you, Clarke. I’ll see you on Monday.” He turned on his heel, marching away from her, feeling like a total asshole. He should’ve thought this through more. He should’ve listened to his original thought process—he was her _boss_. He couldn’t be anything more than that. Besides, he _knew_ that she was seeing someone else. It just so happens that that someone else also had the same genitalia as she did. He was an idiot. He hit on a lesbian. What the hell is wrong with him?

He needed another drink, and he needed to get the fuck out of here. He frowned when an older man with a beer belly and a beard came up to him and grunted something about getting him a drink. The pretty bartender from earlier was nowhere to be seen, and he was left with a burly man. He couldn’t even flirt with a pretty girl as a way to lick his wounds. He should just leave. “Nyk, get him a Jack and Coke, and I’ll take a gin and tonic.” He glanced to his right, seeing the pretty bartender sit down on the stool beside him. She smiled at him, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I’m Roma.”

“Nice to meet you, Roma. I’m Bellamy.” Bellamy extended his hand to Roma, and she took it, sucking on her bottom lip in a way that was supposed to be seductive, and if he wasn’t feeling like shit after that crash and burn with Clarke (and he was the same guy he was three years before), then he probably would have found it seductive. Instead, he just saw it for what it was, _desperate_ , and he decided that he didn’t care, because _he_ was desperate. He felt the glare from Lexa and the sad look from Clarke burning into his back, so he focused his attention on Roma.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bellamy.” Her voice had a slightly husky quality, and she casually reached out to press the back of his wrist to the bar. “Nice ink.” She stroked the tip of her index finger on the infinity symbol he had tattooed on the inside of his wrist. “I like a man with tattoos.” She shifted the path of her finger to go slightly up his forearm, tucking beneath his shirt and suit jacket. He stilled slightly, letting out a small breath as he smiled at the bartender, this _Nyk_ guy, who dropped off their drinks. He handed the man a ten, murmuring that he could keep the change. He used his free hand to raise the glass to his lips to take a sip before looking at the pretty woman beside him.

“You want to get out of here, Roma?” He asked, slipping into the familiar old-Bellamy habits. He was a little rusty, and there were more alluring ways he would’ve asked that question three years before, but the end result was the same. He pretended he was going for the direct approach, not the ‘I-haven’t-done-this-in-awhile’ approach. She cocked an eyebrow at him before raising her glass to her lips. In three gulps, she dropped the empty glass to the bar.

“Let’s go.” She said, standing up, and he grinned. He still had it. He stood up, chugging his own drink before leaving the glass behind. She slipped her hand into his, practically dragging him the bar. He glanced at the dance floor where he’d last seen Clarke, finding it empty. As he was exiting the bar, his eyes landed on two women (one brunette, the other blonde) having a heated make out session against a wall in a darkened corner. The brunette shifted her mouth to the blonde’s neck, and the blonde’s eyes fluttered open.

Bellamy’s eyes locked with Clarke’s in that moment, and she froze under Lexa’s body. He watched as she started to shift away from Lexa, as if she wanted to go speak to him, but Roma rounded on him in that moment, wrapping an arm around his neck. “Your place or mine?” She breathed against his lips before pressing her mouth to his. He settled his hand on the back of her head, kissing her just long enough to show his interest in getting laid that evening. He pulled back, though, because he didn’t want to be like Lexa (and Clarke). He wasn’t the type to rub it in someone’s face. He wasn’t the type to keep that he moved on a secret, but he wasn’t a douche who made out with girls in front of exes just to make them feel like shit and to make himself feel better.

“Yours,” he responded to Roma’s question. “Let’s go to yours.” She grinned at him, starting out the door once again. His hand was still firmly in his, and he didn’t risk a look in Clarke’s direction.

While he slipped into a cab with Roma, with her immediately plastering her lips to his, he couldn’t help but think about something. _It wasn’t just him, though_ ; she’d been flirting with him just as much as he had been flirting with her. She’d used herself as an example of a woman who found his responsible nature and his relationship with his sister as attractive. She’d pretended that it was just a biological thing—the idea of having a mate—but if she was a lesbian, she wouldn’t be thinking about him as a potential mate, and she sure as hell wouldn’t be tell him that she got butterflies when she saw him interact with his sister. She wouldn’t be texting him pictures of herself half-clothed. She wouldn’t be giving him the looks that she gave him or touch him in the way that she’d been doing tonight. She certainly wouldn’t have let him sort-of hold her hand—hell, _she_ was the one who hooked her finger around his. She also looked embarrassed and guilty when he girlfriend came out of nowhere and planted a possessive kiss on her. Hell, why would the girlfriend have done that if Clarke was a lesbian? She wouldn’t have been so defensive and possessive and _jealous_ if Clarke liked _just women_. Plus, Raven said that she was rooting for him. It was obvious that this wasn’t all in his head. It was clear that Clarke wanted him in some capacity, just as he wanted her. However, he wasn’t going to be the douche that broke up a relationship. _If_ there was going to be something between Clarke and him, he wasn’t going to be the one to initiate it.

All thoughts of Clarke and Lexa and him slipped from Bellamy’s mind, though, when Roma pressed a hand to his dick over his pants. He jerked his hips up to meet her hand, sighing into the kiss, which made her grin and bite down hard on his bottom lip. She pulled back from the kiss to give him a sly smile. “My roommate texted me a little while ago that she’s at home, because her date was lame…maybe you could help me cheer her up?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Roommate, huh?” This was the first time that a girl initiated a threesome, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it to himself that he’d never had one before. His friends would boast about crazy hookups in college and grad school, as did he, but he never lied about his own experiences. Murphy claimed that he had had a threesome before, and Bellamy had just slapped him on the back and told him he was proud, leaving it at that. He was kind of surprised that the first opportunity he had was at twenty-seven with a girl he’d just met at a bar after he’d been shot down by the girl he was originally trying to pursue. He squeezed a hand in his fist, which was pressed to the set by his side. He felt the gaze of the cab driver, looking at them through the rearview mirror. The man gave him a knowing smirk and a nod before focusing his attention back on the road. He swallowed. “What’s your roommate’s name?”

“Cheyenne. She’s pretty—short and blonde…” Roma pressed her mouth to Bellamy’s ear. “Great wrack…” He swallowed again, letting out a breath when she flicked her tongue along the shell of his ear.

“Well, I’d hate to see Cheyenne upset…” He grunted, pulling her mouth back to his. He was going to forget about Clarke. She wanted him to get drunk and laid? Well, he was going to go one further. He was buzzed, not drunk, and about to have a threesome with two pretty girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate on Clarke, please!!! We'll get inside of her head in the next chapter, I promise. She might be able to redeem herself in your minds.
> 
> I will let you guys know if I decide to up it to M and clearly separate that portion from the rest of the fic for those of you who wouldn't want to read that kind of stuff. Let me know what you think!!


	6. You're such an asshole.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's feeling weird. Raven's perceptive. Lexa's oblivious. Bellamy's being a dick. Octavia's acting like a brat.

Clarke woke up with a sour stomach on Monday morning. She didn’t want to get showered or dressed. She’d been feeling sick to her stomach since Friday night. She couldn’t even use the excuse of being hungover to explain her discomfort. She rolled over and stared at the clock on her end table. “I can hear you thinking.” Lexa mumbled from next to her in the bed. Clarke glanced to the side studying the back of her girlfriend’s head. Her dark brown hair was covering part of her face, and as she spoke, her breath caused it to flop up. “Turn that damn alarm off, please?” Clarke reached out and shut the alarm off, sitting up. “Mmm, just how I like to wake up in the morning.” She glanced over to see that Lexa was staring pointedly at bare chest.

“I’ve got to go.” She climbed out of bed, grabbing a t-shirt from the floor, tugging it over her head. She ran a hand through her blonde hair. She didn’t know how to explain her guilty feeling. She’d been getting it a lot lately, but especially since Friday night. She didn’t know why she was feeling guilty, though. She _shouldn’t_ be feeling guilty. Kissing her girlfriend—having _sex_ with her girlfriend—shouldn’t be leaving her with a pit in her stomach. She left her bedroom, keeping her back on Lexa. She tugged at her t-shirt lower as she headed toward her kitchen, hoping like hell that her ass wasn’t hanging out from under the shirt.

“Hey, Mama.” She jumped, slapping a hand to her chest. “Mm, nice ass.” Raven winked at her from where she was perched on the couch with a mug of coffee in her hand. Clarke let out a breath.

“Hey, Ray.” She said, trying to regain her composure again. She walked further into the kitchen area of the apartment, mouthing a thank you to Raven over the island, because her friend had gotten down a mug for her. That way, she didn’t have to reach to grab a mug and flash her best friend and roommate _again_. She filled the mug with coffee, adding cream and sugar to it, before raising the mug to her lips, blowing on the coffee before taking a sip.

“What’s with the sourpuss?” Raven asked as she walked up to the island. She leaned her elbows on the island, the cup perched perfectly by her lips, held in both of her hands. All she had to do was tip her hands a little, and she could take a sip.

“Nothing. I’m _fine_.” Clarke said quickly, shaking her head, putting the coffee down in front of her. Raven stared at her, opening her mouth to speak, but Lexa arrived, wrapping an arm around Clarke’s middle. She stole the mug from where Clarke had left it in front of her, taking a sip over Clarke’s shoulder.

“Mm, you make the best coffee, lover.” She said, putting the mug down and pressing a kiss to Clarke’s cheek. Clarke tried to keep the wince from showing on her face, but when she opened her eyes again, she saw Raven cock an eyebrow at her.

“Thanks.” She said quickly, looking away from Raven. “So, I better go get in the shower.” She gagged on the hot coffee as she swallowed three large gulps, ignoring the burn of her tongue. She tore herself from Lexa’s grasp and rushed towards the bathroom.

“She’s weird this morning.” She heard Lexa murmur to Raven, but she didn’t turn around to respond. She _felt_ weird. As she was showering, there was a knock on the door before Raven popped her head into the bathroom.

“Dinner. You and me tonight. We need to chat.”

* * *

“Motherfucking shit! Damn it, O! You can’t leave your shoes in the middle of the floor!” Bellamy’s voice ricocheted throughout the apartment, making Clarke wince as she let herself into the Blake apartment.

“Three dollars in the swear jar, Bellamy!” Octavia bellowed back, and from what Clarke could tell, the little girl was in the bathroom. She rubbed her hands on the palms of her gray jeans after she took her jacket off and hung it on the hook by the front door. She hadn’t spoken to Bellamy since Friday night, and now she had to face him. She felt like she needed to explain herself—apologize for Lexa’s behavior. She was surprised by Lexa’s behavior. Lexa was usually so controlled and together. It had to be because she was drunk.

“Clarke…um…hi.” Bellamy’s voice made her jump, and for the second time that day, Clarke had a mini-heart attack. She turned around, blushing as she took in the sight of Bellamy in a pair of brown slacks and a light blue button down shirt, opened to reveal his tan skin, a light dusty of dark brown hair on his chest and trailing from his belly button to somewhere below his belted pants, and the ridges of his defined muscles. She quickly tore her eyes from his chest as she raised her hand to yank the hat from her head.

“Hi, Bellamy!” She squeaked, twisting the hat in her hands. He quirked an eyebrow at her as he buttoned his shirt slowly. “Um, did you have a good weekend?” She winced at her question the second she asked it. His jaw tensed slightly as he finished buttoning his shirt.

“It was great. I’m glad you’re here already. I’m gonna head out.” He turned away from her, going into the kitchen to fill the to-go cup with coffee and grabbing his messenger bag from where it was lying on the counter. “I’m going to need you to watch O for an extra hour or so tonight? I’ll pay you for the added time, of course. I’ll add it in with the extra that should cover her sleepover Thursday night, too.” He kept his back towards her. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words seemed to come out. He settled the messenger bag onto his shoulder before walking over to the bathroom door. He knocked on it and called through the door to his sister. “I’m leaving, O. Love you. Clarke’s gonna stay a bit later with you tonight, because I’m going to be home late. See you later tonight.” He marched back towards the door of the apartment, which Clarke was blocking. “Um, Clarke,” he waved his hand at the door.

“I, uh, have plans tonight.” Clarke said, finding her words again. Bellamy’s lips thinned as he pressed them together, as if he was trying to keep something in.

“Fine. I will see if Maya and Jasper could watch her for a bit tonight. I guess I shouldn’t have just assumed that you’d be available.” He said tersely, and she furrowed her brow.

“No, I’ll watch her, but I’d appreciate more notice next time. You can’t just push your agenda onto me, expecting me to just follow right along.” She crossed her arms, feeling the anger bubble to the surface. She didn’t even know why she was angry, but she was, and he was there to take the brunt of it.

“Sorry, _Princess_. I’ll be sure to ask next time.” He waved his hand towards the door again. “Are you going to move any time soon, or are we all going to die in this apartment?” He snapped. Her jaw dropped open, because he had no right to be mean to her.

“You’re such an asshole.” She responded, moving out of his way. She kept walking past him, headed straight for Octavia’s room to be ready to help her get ready for school. She jumped when the front door slammed behind her, indicating that Bellamy had left.

* * *

Later that day, Clarke sighed as Octavia chattered beside her in the diner booth, coloring in her coloring book that Clarke always kept in the little girl’s schoolbag. “And then Tommy was like, ‘Billy, I _triple-dog-dare_ you to sneak the snake into Mrs. Indra’s desk,’ and Billy _did_ it! So, Mrs. Indra kept us in at recess today, because Billy and Tommy are dumb and no one told her who actually left the snake in her desk.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Clarke mumbled as she started at her phone, the screen black. She was itching to grab it and send Bellamy a text message about how she didn’t appreciate his rudeness that morning.

“How is it good that I got in trouble for Billy and Tommy being dummies?” Octavia snapped, making Clarke jump. She winced, running a hand through her messy hair, looking down at the girl beside her.

“Hey, don’t use that tone with me, Missy. You sound like your brother.” She turned her gaze to the menu. “Maybe you should’ve told the boys that they _shouldn’t_ have left the snake in your teacher’s desk, and since they did, perhaps you could’ve told Mrs. Indra the truth.”

“I ain’t no snitch!” Octavia growled, crossing her arms. “Bell told me that I should never snitch on anyone.”

“Whoa! What’s going on here?” Raven said, eyebrows raised as she dropped into the seat opposite Clarke and Octavia.

“Clarke’s being a bitch.” Octavia said, arms still crossed.

“Hey! Language!” Clarke exclaimed at the same time that Raven gasped, “ _Octavia!_ ”

“Whatever. Bell says that kind of stuff all of the time.”

“I don’t care if Bellamy says curse words all of the time. _You_ won’t talk like that around me. I expect an apology, and I _might_ consider not telling Bellamy that you called me that.” Octavia rolled her eyes and looked away from Clarke, ignoring her. “Fine.” Clarke grabbed her phone and unlocked it. She opened her call log, looking through her recent calls for Bellamy’s phone number. She hesitated momentarily before she started the call.

“Jesus Christ, Clarke, this better be a fucking emergency.” Bellamy growled into the phone, and she tensed her jaw.

“No wonder your sister seems to think that it’s okay to call me a bitch.” She snapped into the phone. She stood up from the table, shooting a glare at Octavia when she saw the pleased sneer on the little girl’s lips. “Don’t give me that smug look, Octavia Blake. That kind of language is not appropriate for someone your age, and it’s _hurtful_.” She gave Raven a pleading look before she marched away from the table and out of the door of the diner. “What the hell is wrong with you, Bellamy Blake?” She said, turning her lecture on him. “Do you forget that you have a little sister who watches everything you do and tries to act as you do?”

“Oh, enough of the lecture, Clarke.” He sighed. “I’m sorry that Octavia called you a bitch, and I’ll talk to her about when I get home in an hour. Where is my sister while you’re whining at me?”

“She’s inside. We’re at the diner on Second Street, having dinner, because I had plans…plans that you completely disregarded.” Clarke said coolly. She picked at a loose thread in her jeans. She heard Bellamy’s quiet scoff.

“Right, well, sorry to ruin your plans with your _girlfriend_.” She stiffened at his harsh tone and the way he practically spit the word girlfriend. He was obviously still pissed about their almost- _whatever_ on Halloween. He had no right to be pissed at her, though. She was dating Lexa, and she was allowed to kiss her and hug her and _act_ like they were dating. _Because they were_.

“I’m not with Lexa.” She blushed, because that came out wrong. “Right now. I’m not with Lexa _right now_. Raven and I were getting dinner tonight, a little roomie bonding, and you asked me to watch Octavia, so I brought her with me. I also don’t appreciate your tone, Bellamy. I’m sorry if your pride was hurt or something, but you knew I was in a relationship. You’re my _boss_ , Bellamy. My personal life should not affect our working relationship.” She swallowed. It was almost like a boa was wrapped around her heart, squeezing it until it turned to dust. She gasped for air. He _wasn’t_ just her boss. She felt something. She thought that he was flirting with her, and she had flirted with him.

“Right. I’m your boss. I don’t care about your personal life at all. I _do_ care about the fact that you’re introducing my sister to a bunch of people I don’t know and don’t trust.”

“You don’t trust Raven? Jasper and Maya love her. You trust them, so why wouldn’t you trust her. As for Lexa, I can understand your trepidation over my girlfriend being involved in Octavia’s life, but Lexa is a good person.” She heard someone sigh loudly on the other line, but it didn’t sound like Bellamy. She then heard a fumbling sound.

“Excuse me, but Bellamy is going to have to call you back later. He was just about to go down on me before you interrupted. Bye!” A girl’s sickeningly sweet voice flowed over the line before it went dead.

Clarke pulled the phone from her ear to stare at it in shock. She tightened her jaw and shoved her phone into the pocket of her jeans. She was completely livid, and she was going to kill Bellamy Blake.

* * *

The girl—fuck, what was her name? Jenna? Jessica? Whatever; it didn’t fucking matter—grinned as she dropped the phone onto the floor beside her balled up jeans and t-shirt. She rested back on the bed, wearing nothing but a black thong and a lace pushup bra. Her light brown hair was cut in a bob that framed her face, choppy bangs covering her muddy eyes. She was pretty, but in a plain sort of way, and even though she had a nice ass, Bellamy suddenly wasn’t interested. He stepped back from the bed, bending over to grab his phone.

“I was in the middle of a phone call.” He practically snarled at her like a dog as he rebuttoned his loosened pants and grabbed his shirt from where it had been tossed absent-mindedly on the floor.

“Yeah, well, we were in the middle of something, and that hardly seemed important.” She leaned up to rest her weight on her elbows. “What are you doing?”

He finished buttoning his button-down shirt. “Leaving. You _don’t_ touch my phone, especially when I was in the middle of a call. Which was important, because I was talking to my nanny.”

“Wait. You have a kid?” The girl said in surprise, and Bellamy just rolled his eyes and marched out of the room, after making sure that he had his keys and wallet. He slammed the door to the girl’s apartment before making his way to the car.

The second he was settled into his car, he sighed, running a hand through his mussed hair, trying to regain his composure. It had hurt like a bitch to hear Clarke refer to him as solely her boss. He’d thought that there was something going on there—a flirtation, an interest. She had basically shot that assumption in the foot with her casually referring to him as her boss. The rejection he felt when he saw Lexa practically piss on Clarke, marking her territory, was nothing in comparison to her blatant accusation that he was crossing the line.

He groaned punching the steering wheel, ignoring the irritated looks the few people in the parking lot shot him when his punch resulted in him honking the horn. He gripped the steering wheel in both hands, so tightly that it turned his palms white, eyes squeezed tightly shut, before taking a deep breath and releasing it. He turned the key in the ignition, starting his car. Since Clarke was getting dinner with Octavia and her roommate, Raven, at the diner, he was dinnerless. He stopped by his favorite pizza place to pick up a large cheese (they could have leftovers the next night or for breakfast or something) before heading home.

He’d barely had time to shove a slice down his throat after changing out of his work clothes before Octavia and Clarke came charging into the apartment, both red in the face and looking irritated. “I hate you!” Octavia shouted, ignoring Bellamy and rushing into her bedroom. She slammed the door, and he turned to look at Clarke.

“What the hell was that?”

“Well, your sister is mad at me, because I told her that she should write an apology letter that we are going to drop off tomorrow for the waitress who got strawberry milk thrown at her person, because she accidentally dropped that off at our table rather than the chocolate milk that Octavia ordered. The poor girl came back to the table with a chocolate milk in her hand, and before she could even say anything, Octavia screamed at her that she wanted _chocolate_ milk and she threw the milk and glass at her. The waitress was drenched. _I_ was drenched. The table. The floor. _Raven_.” Bellamy traced his eyes over Clarke’s form, and he did notice a pink stain seeping into her gray pants. “Suffice to say, I packed her up almost immediately after apologizing to the waitress and telling her that I— _meaning you_ —would be paying for any dry cleaning bills she might have. So, she hasn’t had dinner. I recommend that you don’t let her have any pizza, because that would only be rewarding her crap behavior today.”

“I’ll deal with my sister.” She narrowed her eyes at him, tightening a hand into a fist.

“As for you, I’m so livid, I can’t even see straight. You wanted me to watch your sister for an extra hour just so you could get laid? Seriously?” She shook her head at him.

“It’s none of your business what I do while you’re working, _Princess_.” He snapped.

“God, Bellamy, what the hell is going on here?” She shook her head, pressing both of her palms into her eyes, groaning. “I woke up this morning, dreading coming to work. That’s never happened before. I like this job. I like Octavia.” She hesitated, dropping her hands. “I thought we were friends…” He swallowed.

“I’m your _boss_. You’re my nanny.” He said as evenly as he could. She licked her bottom lip, nodding her head.

“Right. We’re not friends. I get it. So sorry for getting that confused. Well, I better get going, _boss_.” She turned on her heel, marching out of the apartment.

Bellamy watched Clarke go, feeling like there was a pit left in the bottom of his stomach. Why did it feel like something had drastically changed between them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I’m not 100% satisfied with this chapter, but I had to write it this way. It’s setting up for later parts of the story, and while we do dive into Clarke’s head a bit, she’s adamant about how she feels about Lexa and her relationship, so she’s just as confused as ever. We’re going to go deeper into her mind. Also, everyone’s in a super bad mood. I tried to add in a bit of Bellamy just to see what he's feeling over all of the Clarke business, too.


	7. She got her answer.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke does some introspection and makes some revelations. It also features some awesome Raven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so, so sorry. This chapter was so hard for me to write, and then I realized exactly where I could go with it. So, finally, we have a new chapter. Please note that I’ve finally made a decision about the rating for this chapter. It is now M. Nothing too graphic or explicit will be included, but it is definitely mature enough that people who don’t like reading about sexual stuff should avoid it. Sorry if this means that I will lose readers! : (
> 
> Also, this chapter includes some Clexa smut. It isn’t descriptive, but more abstract in discussing its occurrence as it happens. I know that while all of you are aware that Clexa is happening and that they’re having sex, most of you likely don’t want to actually read it as it is happening, so I understand if you DON’T want to read the beginning of this chapter. That being said, I hope that you do, because Clarke does a lot of soul-searching and introspection throughout all of the Clexa sex stuff about her relationship with Bellamy and her relationship with Lexa. This chapter is hugely important in terms of progress with Clarke and Bellamy’s relationship with this fic. I really hope that you all will read it, even though it does have the Clexa smut.

Clarke sighed, eyelids fluttering. She pressed her head back into the pillow, gathering fistfuls of the sheets in her hands. Her back bowed off of the bed, and a rush of pleasure shot up her spine as lips danced along the inside of her thighs. A lithe tongue painted the outer edges of her sex, and she whimpered, squeezing the sheets more tightly in her hands. She squeezed her eyes shut, slowed down her breathing, and focused on the feeling of lips and a tongue caressing her most intimate places, on the pressure of hands holding her legs open to the gentle onslaught. She listened to the sound of her heartbeat thumping in her ears, the warmth spreading through her limbs. Her heart pounded a staccato rhythm against her chest, and soon her panting gasps matched the same quick, jagged beats. She let out a moan as the tongue flicked over her clit, making her legs jerk and her toes curl.

She released a fist of sheets, her hand traveling of its own accord to the head nestled between her legs, and it was then that reality came storming back to her. Her eyes flew open, and she let out a loud breath. The hair her hand was tangled in was too soft, too fine, too long. The warm hands gripping her thighs were too small, too delicate. The lips of the mouth too thin. The tongue too…just not right. None of it was right. The pleasurable shocks that had been sliding through her body were diminishing, as was the steady pressure of pleasure within her sex. She was losing it. Again. Fuck. Why? She squeezed her eyes shut again, willing it to come back. Please, please, please.

“That’s it, baby.” The feminine voice said, hot breath ghosting against her sex. Clarke’s eyes flew open, and she realized that she’d said her chants aloud. Fuck, hopefully that was all that she’d said. One of Lexa’s hands released her thigh, and her fingers joined her mouth as she continued to coax Clarke to an orgasm. What Lexa didn’t know was that it wasn’t going to happen. Clarke had lost it, and now she just felt uncomfortable, guilty, and ashamed.

Why couldn’t she have sex with her girlfriend anymore? Why did she feel so dirty and wrong over being with her girlfriend, like she doing something inappropriate, hurting _Bellamy_. Oh, and then when she was around Bellamy, she felt so angry at him, and there was more guilt, like she was cheating on Lexa. She felt so mixed up and confused, and she was so filled with anxiety that she could no longer enjoy sex. Hell, she couldn’t even masturbate on her own! Clarke loved sex. She’d loved it since she was a teenager and first experimented with her sexuality. She’d loved it when she’d had sex with men, and she loved it when she had sex with women. Sex had never been something dirty and wrong and upsetting for her, but now she couldn’t find pleasure in any type of sex, because she was so mixed up about what was going on with her and Lexa and Bellamy.

“Lexa,” she said. She tightened her hold on her girlfriend’s hair, stilling her. Lexa raised her head, leveling Clarke with an indifferent look. “I’m sorry,” Clarke whispered, the tears filling her eyes. Lexa sighed, sitting up, moving from between Clarke’s legs. Clarke watched as the brunette turned her back on her, sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment, a hand going up to wipe at her mouth before settling at her side once again.

Clarke’s legs fell shut, and she rolled onto her side, the tears leaking down her cheeks. She pulled her legs up, arms wrapped around them. The first time this happened, three days after her fight with Bellamy. She and Lexa were in bed for nearly a half an hour, and nothing was happening. Lexa had gotten frustrated, doubled her efforts, but still nothing. Clarke was embarrassed and emotional, and Lexa had held her while she cried. They both agreed that it was probably a onetime thing, stress and all of that. But, it kept happening. Every time they’d attempted to have sex for the last few weeks. In the beginning, Lexa had been comforting, but now, she was cold with Clarke. Clarke could hear Lexa roughly pulling on her clothes and gathering up her stuff, leaving Clarke, naked and cold, feeling exposed and alone, in the fetal position, crying.

“I think that maybe we should talk when I get back from Thanksgiving break on Sunday.” Lexa was dressed again, holding a bag in her hand. “I just…I don’t know what to do for you, Clarke, and I just…I think a few days off will be good for us, okay?”

Clarke wiped at her cheeks, not daring to respond. Hell, she didn’t know what to say, even if she did dare to respond. Lexa was pissed at her, and she was basically saying that they were on a break for the next five days. Clarke sniffled, making Lexa sigh. She moved over to crouch in front of Clarke, reaching out to pull the sheet over Clarke’s nude from. She leaned over to press a kiss to Clarke’s forehead. “Love you,” she whispered before standing and walking out of the room. Clarke was left behind, feeling alone and empty, wallowing in her own self-pity.

* * *

 

“We need to talk.” Raven said as she sat down on the couch beside Clarke. She held out a greasy white bag that smelled strongly of a burger and fries. The logo on the side of the bag indicated that the food was from the diner down the street from Wick’s apartment—not that Clarke would say anything about that to Raven.

Clarke paused in her pursuit of the perfect Thanksgiving animated movie on Netflix to take the offered bag from her roommate and best friend. She dropped the greasy bag into her lap, not caring about the sweatpants that she wore. Frankly, a grease stain could only make them better, considering the amount of dried paint, spilled coffee, and general wear and tear they sported. She raised an eyebrow at Raven as she opened the bag to dig out a wrapped burger, laying it on the end table beside her.

“What’s up?” Clarke spoke hesitantly, and her movements showed the same hesitance, because she was slowly and deliberately pulling the cardboard box of fries out of the bag to set down beside the wrapped burger.

“Why have you been so weird lately?” Raven said bluntly. Clarke sighed, raising the greasy bag to tip it over her mouth to upend the few loose fries that had settled at its bottom. She, thankfully, was only hit in the middle of the forehead with one limp, greasy fry, whereas the rest tumbled perfectly into her open mouth. She used the excuse of chewing to ignore Raven’s question, instead focusing on smoothing the greasy bag flat in her lap one-handed, while she used the other to continue to scroll through the movies with her Roku remote.

“I’m not weird,” she mumbled around the fries as she settled on a movie about time traveling turkeys. She dropped the Roku remote onto the couch cushion beside her and reached for the wrapped burger and fries container to set them on the flattened back in her lap, using it as a semi-plate to catch stray burger pieces and fries.

“Yeah, you are.” Raven insisted. “You’ve barely left this couch to do anything aside from go to work and class. You come home from work with a huge fucking sourpuss on your face. You’ve been avoiding Lexa’s calls so much that she’s taken to just showing up at the apartment unannounced. When she does that, you two disappear into your room for an hour or an hour and a half, and then she comes storming out, pissed off and uncomfortable. I don’t see you for the rest of the night after that, or, if I do, you’re miserable and weepy, and you’re _never miserable_ or weepy. I’ve known you for a while, and even after the Finn debacle and you and I were barely friends, you didn’t act like this. Hell, even Lexa doesn’t even know what to do with you, because she asked _me_ what the hell was going on with you lately.”

Clarke was regretting her choice not to bring up Wick and the diner bag situation, but it was too late now, so she just raised her burger to her lips and took a ginormous bite that she had trouble chewing—all in the hopes of avoiding talking about this with Raven. She glued her eyes on the screen, watching as the main character-turkey was bonding with the President’s daughter. “Clarke, _please talk to me_.” Raven implored, reaching out to lay a hand on Clarke’s forearm. “Did you and Lexa break up?”

“No!” Clarke quickly responded, wincing at the muffled mass of semi-chewed food in her mouth. She increased the aggressiveness of her chewing until she could swallow the bite of burger. “No, we didn’t break up. Why would you ask that?!”

“I don’t know! Because you’ve been avoiding her, and when you two do hang out, you both look miserable at the end of it.” She waved a hand at Clarke’s disheveled appearance. “And, you know, _this_.” Clarke blushed, rubbing at her forehead. “What’s going on?”

“I…I’m…I…fuck, I don’t know, okay!?” She frowned, staring at the food in her lap. She picked up a limp fry, raising it to her lips. She popped it into her mouth, but she didn’t even taste it—not really.

“Clarke.” Raven spoke softly, and she shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Clarke’s shoulders. “I’m here. Tell me what’s going on with you. We’re best friends.”

“Things are weird with Lexa…I just…I can’t… _you know_ …I’m…it’s really…fucking hell.”

“What?” Raven chuckled softly. “Was that even English?”

“Lexa and I have been having some issues _sexually_.” Clarke mumbled before quickly taking a bite of her burger. It was easier to focus on that problem, avoiding thinking about the shit with Bellamy and how she felt like she was cheating on both of them.

“Oh.” Raven let out breath. “I’m gonna, like, I’m really out of my element here, because I’ve never really had sex with a girl before, but I get the basic gist of what you all _do_.” She was rambling and stammering. “But, can you give me a little context?”

“Well, I’m sure it’ll be no surprise, but Lexa kind of gets off on being in control. I mean, like, she likes to get me off in order to get off herself, if that make sense.”

“Totally.”

“Anyways…lately, I just…everything is going great at first. Like, she’s getting me all hot and bothered…but halfway through…I don’t know. I just lose it.”

“It?”

“Yeah. _It_. I don’t even know what to make sense of it. I just reach this point, where I get caught up in reality, like who I’m with and what I’m doing, and everything comes to a screeching halt.”

“Who you’re with?” Raven’s little prompts weren’t really helping, and Clarke knew that Raven was half-way confused about what Clarke was talking about, because she was leaving out half of the story.

“Yeah, because I feel like I’m betraying her… _and someone else_.” Clarke said the last three words around her burger as she took another bite.

“I’m sorry I missed that. It sounded like you were saying that you were betraying both Lexa and _someone else_. What the hell is going on?” Fuck, Clarke thought. She really needed to get her head on straight, and the only thing that would help her was being open and honest with Raven.

“On Halloween—I…shit, Ray.”

“You’re scaring me, babe.”

“I almost hooked up with Bellamy.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you and Wick were making out, and Lexa had to go to the bathroom. He was at the bar, and he saw me…I don’t know…we’ve been flirting!” Clarke felt the tears burn in her eyes. “There was this moment, okay? I just…I would’ve stopped it, right? I wouldn’t have done anything.”

“Clarke,” Raven released her hand, squeezing Clarke’s shoulders with her arm. “You’re not Finn, Clarke.”

“Oh, God! I actually wasn’t even thinking that, but that’s what I was doing, right? I was acting like Finn. Fuck, I’m horrible!”

“Wait, Clarke, stop for a second.”

“No, I’m horrible! I’m doing what Finn did to you with Lexa, and I was turning Bellamy into me! What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Okay, stop, Clarke. Breathe.” She tried to calm down, but she felt heavy with anxiety and pain and fear and heartbreak. She felt horrible, and she felt dirty. “You’re not Finn. You didn’t kiss him. You didn’t convince him that you were interested and that there was no one else. First and foremost, Bellamy knew that you were with someone, and he still reciprocated, so there’s that.”

“Like that’s any better, Ray.”

“It’s not. Believe me, I know it’s not, but I know you, Clarke. I saw how upset you were with Finn when you realized that he made you into the other woman, and I saw how upset you were over your part in hurting me. I have no doubt that you would’ve stopped anything from happening with Bellamy before it happened. I’m assuming that Lexa caught you guys?”

“Yeah,” Clarke sniffed, biting off the top of a fry angrily and aggressively.

“Right, so that’s why she spent basically every waking moment in our apartment for the rest of that weekend.” Raven rolled her eyes. “Okay, so I know that I’ve teased you about Bellamy and how I think you two should date, but I hate seeing you hurt and upset like this. I never wanted this for you, babe. You know that I want you to be happy, and if Lexa makes you happy, then be with Lexa.” Raven paused. “That being said, you need to figure out what it is that you really want from Bellamy. Are you interested in him as a quick fuck, because he’s attractive and there’s kind of this great sex fantasy of the nanny and the older sibling or dad? Or because he’s your boss? Or doing a librarian? Fuck, all of those are pretty awesome fantasies.”

Clarke chuckled, despite her tears. “Ray,” she whined.

“Right, right. Sorry.” Raven said with a small laugh. “Are you interested in just sleeping with Bellamy, or do you think that there could be something more there?”

“I don’t know, Ray.”

“Well, pretend for a moment that Lexa’s not in the picture. There is no Lexa, and you’re just single, young Clarke. Would you want to just sleep with Bellamy, or would you want to date him? Could you see yourself in a relationship with him? Do you see a future with you two? Would you be willing to take on the role of step-mom to Octavia?”

“Jesus, Ray!”

“I know that seems like a lot, but you’d be dating a guy with a kid. Granted, he’s her brother, not her father, but he’s still going to be raising her. When you date someone with a kid, you have to think seriously.”

“I know that!”

“So, what are you thinking or feeling when it comes to Bellamy?”

“I don’t know! I…he…it doesn’t matter, because I’m with Lexa, and he’s fucking random skanks six ways to Sunday now.”

“Someone sounds a little jealous.”

“I’m…” She wanted to say that she wasn’t jealous. She also wanted to say that Raven was wrong about everything she was saying, but the truth was that she _was_ jealous of Bellamy’s recent flings, and Raven _was_ right about everything. She needed to figure out what the hell she wanted.

“Okay, when you figure your shit out with Bellamy and Lexa, you’ll figure out the sex stuff.”

“I just…I know you’re right.” Clarke sighed, sniffing.

“You know I love you, right, babe? I’m here for you, okay? Always.” Raven hugged Clarke against her chest. Thank god for Raven, Clarke thought.

* * *

 

Clarke went to work the next day, ready to figure out what the hell was going on between her and Bellamy. She was going to apologize for the weirdness (again, but more seriously than she did originally—she owed him as much, even if he was kind of a jerk), and then she hoped that they could talk about everything. Perhaps, if she got an understanding of what he was thinking and feeling, then she’d get a better idea of what she wanted.

“Hey, Clarke!” Octavia’s excited voice welcomed Clarke into the apartment. The little girl raced over to her, throwing her arms around Clarke’s middle. Clarke let out a small puff of air at the force of the hit, but she wrapped her arms around Octavia, smiling.

“Hi, Octavia.” She laughed, pulling back from the little girl. “Are you excited to have your last day at school before Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah, but I’m more excited to see my grandparents tomorrow.”

“Is that where you and Bellamy head for the holiday?” She asked, surprised. She didn’t know that their grandparents were still alive. “Are they on your mother’s…?”

“They’re my dad’s parents. Things are good now, but…” She heard the hesitancy in Octavia’s voice.

“Things weren’t always good?” She finished for Octavia. Octavia nodded, which made Clarke frown. “Was it about custody?”

“Yeah, at first they were mad that Mom wrote that she and Dad wanted Bellamy to get custody of me. They tried to fight it, because they thought Bell was still a kid. They thought they should get custody for me. Bell said—”

“O, go put your shoes on.” O’s eyes widened, and she immediately ran away from Clarke. Clarke looked up at Bellamy, seeing that he was fully dressed for work, arms crossed. His face was cloudy, and she could tell that he didn’t want her to know such personal stuff about their history.

“Don’t be mad at her. I just…I just asked about the holiday, and she said things used to be hard for you guys with her grandparents. I didn’t mean to pry.” She chewed on her bottom lip.

“I’m not mad at her.” She sighed, rubbing her forehead, feeling the beginning stirrings of a tension headache.

“I’m assuming that means you’re mad at me.”

“She’s nine, Clarke, and she trusts you. Of course she’d keep telling you our life story, but you’re the adult. You should’ve stopped her.”

“I’m sorry. I was curious! I didn’t know about O’s grandparents. Why would they fight you for custody? If that is what your mom and step-dad wanted, why would they fight it?”

“Because I was twenty-four and a guy who fucked around. They didn’t think they should take me seriously. Hell, I didn’t take myself seriously! I’d graduated with a double major in English literature and history. I was working full-time in a bookstore, tutoring high school kids in the evenings, and partying on the weekends with my friends. I wanted to apply to a Ph.D. program, but I knew that that would be expensive, so I’d started with the master’s in library science. I’d work while I got the Ph.D. I was only a year into the two year program…” He blew out a breath, and Clarke figured that it was an accident that she said as much to her.

“Bellamy.” She took a step for, but she hesitated when she saw that the dark look hadn’t left his face. “That doesn’t…you were twenty-four. That’s normal for people your age. That doesn’t mean that you weren’t serious or that you weren’t capable of taking care of your sister. Look at how much has happened in the last few years! You finished your program, and you’ve got a great job at the library. She’s happy and healthy and thriving. You’ve done everything you could to make her want for nothing. You did all of this while you were mourning the loss of your mother.” She chewed on her bottom lip, blushing slightly at the passion in her voice.

“I know.” He nodded his head. “Things are good now. That first year, they weren’t happy with me…but things have been okay the last two years.”

Clarke stepped forward again, twisting her fingers in front of her. “Um, would it be okay if I stopped by the library later after I dropped off O? I, um, just…there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Yeah…yeah, that’d be okay.” Bellamy flicked his tongue over his bottom lip, and she could see the tension in his shoulders. He ran a hand through his hair, and she knew that he was confused about what she wanted to talk to him about. She gave him a hesitant smile, indicating that it wasn’t something big or negative. “Right, so, I, uh, better go…”

“I’ll see you later then.” He nodded at her and turned away, gathering up his stuff. He cleared his throat, giving her a quiet goodbye. He called out a goodbye to Octavia.

* * *

 

Two hours later, Clarke took a deep breath as she stood in front of the Ark Public Library. She had two coffees in her hands, and she was nervous about the conversation she was about to have with Bellamy. She was going to tell him that she was attracted to him, and she was confused about everything. She was going to be open and honest with him, and she was going to tell him about what was going on with Lexa. Well, not about the sex thing, but about the stress going on in their relationship, because of her relationship with him. She was going to ask him what he was thinking and feeling. Hell, she might even ask him on a date—to see if this was real. She finally felt slightly at peace.

“Are you going in?” A beautiful brunette woman stood in the doorway, holding the door open. She was tall and slender. She was dressed in a pair of black dress pants, a purple blouse, and a black blazer beneath her open black coat, and a black oversized purse hung on her shoulder. She reached up and slid a pair of expensive sunglasses from the top of her head, and she took a step forward and then to the side, out of the doorway, continuing to hold the door open with one hand. Her black heeled-boots clicked on the cement. She smiled at Clarke, nodding to the two coffees in her hands.

“Oh, thank you!” Clarke grinned back at her, stepping forward to lean her hip against the door, allowing the woman to let go of the door. “Have a good day.”

“You, too.” The woman said, nodding goodbye to Clarke. She then sauntered towards her car, a navy blue BMW. Clarke watched the woman go, because she had an energy that almost _demanded_ people to look at her. She shook her head, moving into the library. An excited smile slipped onto her face as she walked up to the counter.

Bellamy was helping a patron, and he gave Clarke a smile and a nod as he finished up with the patron. He took the coffee gratefully from her, raising it to his lips. He nodded to Maya, who waved at Clarke, before moving around the counter to guide Clarke to a table. She sat down opposite of him, holding her coffee in both hands, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Before you begin, I need to ask you something. Would you be able to watch Octavia on Saturday?”

“Of course! When?”

“Um, Saturday night, for sure. I will let you know for sure later. I’ve gotta make reservations, first.”

“Reservations?” Clarke felt a knot settle in his stomach.

“Yeah, an old, uh, _friend_ from college came in this morning to pick up a book, and we got to talking. We’re getting dinner to catch up, so…” He shrugged his shoulders, a small smile on his face.

“Oh, right, um, cool.” She gave him a tight smile. “That’s…that’s awesome.”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. Echo’s great.”

“Echo? That’s an interesting name.” She cleared her throat, cocking her head to the right at the odd name.

“Well, her name is Simone. Simone Echofsky, but we called her Echo in college.” She nodded her head.

“Oh.” She coughed. “Um, have fun. Just, uh, just let me know the details when you know them.”

“Yeah, of course. So, what did you want to talk about?”

“Oh, well, I was going to invite you—and Octavia, of course—to dinner on Friday. It’s, like, a potluck, nomads thing. You bring whatever leftovers you have or, like, a new dish, and we all kind of just hang out at my apartment.” She gave him a tight smile. He frowned, sighing.

“O and I won’t get back in town until Saturday morning. She goes out to lunch and to a movie on Friday with her grandparents, and I usually do a little Black Friday shopping for her presents.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry we’ll miss it.”

“That’s okay! I, uh, hope you guys have a great time this weekend with your family. Um, I’ve gotta get to class, so, uh, I’ll see you later.” She ran her hand through her hair. She sniffed.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll see you later.” He stood up as she did so. He furrowed his brow, watching her be flustered and weird. She grabbed her coffee, giving him a tight smile.

“Bye, Bellamy.” She winced slightly at the hitch in her voice. She coughed, blushing.

“Bye, Clarke.” He replied, but she was too busy rushing out the door. When she got to her car, she sat in the front see, squeezing her eyes shut as she pressed her head back against the seat.

“Well, fuck.” She muttered. “That sucks.” Her eyes burned, and she felt them fill slightly with tears. She shook her head, not allowing herself get upset. She got her answer. She needed to know. Now, she knew that she needed to focus on her relationship with Lexa. She let out a breath. She got her answer.


	8. "You're the one with the issue."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke tries to repair her relationship with Lexa while trying to get a handle on Bellamy's reconnecting with Echo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretend that Trigedas is an island near Panama, because I asked nicely. Also, Clarke is in denial about everything. Like usual. Also, life, man…

Clarke took a deep breath before she entered the Blake apartment to watch Octavia while Bellamy was out with Echo. She was bombarded with her usual greeting from O, a running-jump style hug that nearly knocked her over and completely took her breath away. The little girl had started leaving bruises, so she made mental note to talk to her about it, because it was never too early to be aware of bikini season.

She still hadn’t spoken to Lexa, aside from a couple of well-wishing texts back and forth on Thanksgiving. She’d tried texting and calling her, but her girlfriend never responded. It was rough to see the repeated gray bubbles of “I love you” going unanswered.

“Hey, O. Ready for a fun night of pizza, popcorn, and Trigedasleng?” She asked as she returned O’s hug.

“YEAH!” Octavia crowed, releasing Clarke’s middle to throw hands up in the air.

“Trigedasleng? You speak Grounder?”

She rolled her eyes at the slang term for the island nation off the coast of South America, just shy of Panama. “Mrs. Indra is from Trigedas, so we’re learning it together, because O wants to tell her that she is sorry for being a pain this year and that she really likes being in Mrs. Indra’s class.”

“O wants this, or is it your idea?”

“She asked me…I don’t know much Trigedas, but Lexa was born in Trigedas and her family emigrated here, so she’s taught me a few of their words, phrases, and customs. Like, she has a tendency to say ‘yu gonplei ste odon’ whenever she kills someone in a video game or dominates on the basketball court.” His face instantly soured at the mention of Lexa.

“What the he—heck does that mean?”

“Your fight is over. It's what you say when someone is dying, but it also translates well to someone being beaten thoroughly…”

“You asked?” He turned to Octavia to confirm it, and she nodded, grinning widely at him. “Fine.”

“Bell’s going on a date, and he’s nervous.” Octavia laughed as she tugged on the sleeve of Clarke’s sweater. “He’s been whiny and weird all day.”

Clarke swallowed hard and kept her gaze firmly on Octavia. She ran a hand down the back of Octavia’s head.

“It’s not a date.” He muttered, making her glance up from O, and she noticed that his eyes were locked firmly on her. He looked handsome, but so unlike himself. His usually unkempt hair was slicked back with gel, with any trace of stubble removed from his face. He was wearing clothes she hadn’t seen him in before—they were actually nicer and potentially new.

“Looks like date clothes to me…” She said as airily as she could.

“Yeah, well, it’s just an old friend…so…” He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

“Tuck it in…and maybe a tie?” She suggested, and she felt the knot in her stomach tighten, because she was actually giving him suggestions for date clothes. “But, um, if it isn’t really a date…you’re fine.”

“Right, so…I’m gonna get my shoes on.” He turned around and headed back into his bedroom.

She let out a breath before smiling down at Octavia. “Let’s order that pizza and dig out the Trigedasleng books.”

“Let’s go.”

About ten minutes after Clarke had gotten O set up at the kitchen table with a child-friendly, intro Trigedasleng for Dummies book, Bellamy’s door opened once more. He was shoving a wallet into his back pocket, and he didn’t look at her as he headed over to press a kiss to the top of O’s head. Clarke swallowed as she leaned against the counter with her phone pressed to her ear, ordering their dinner for the night. He barely waved goodbye in her direction before he headed out the door. He had tucked in his shirt and worn a tie.

* * *

On Monday, Clarke met with Lexa for coffee. Clarke figured that a neutral location would be best for their conversation after their mini-break. She’d purposely chosen a table away from other patrons, because she wanted privacy while she spoke with Lexa. After the incidents with Bellamy and his reconnection with Echo, Clarke knew that she was going to devote all of her energy to repairing her relationship with Lexa. Frankly, the last few weeks with no sex (even masturbation) was getting to her. She needed to get laid. It was a stress reliever for her, and if she could have sex with Lexa, then that would mean everything was on track again, right?

“Hey, Clarke.” Lexa sat down at the table opposite to Clarke. Ordinarily, she would’ve pressed a kiss to Clarke’s lips before sitting down or something affectionate. It left a sour taste in Clarke’s mouth that her girlfriend was acting so formally with her.

Their relationship wasn’t perfect, and Clarke knew that, but she genuinely loved Lexa. She hated how mixed up things had gotten for them since she met Bellamy. If she hadn’t met him, then this wouldn’t be happening. She and Lexa would be _fine_. At the same time, Clarke didn’t regret that she met Bellamy. She wouldn’t know Octavia. She wouldn’t have a job that she enjoyed (most of the time).

“I’ve missed you.” Clarke said after she and Lexa stared at each other in silence for a few minutes. It had been awkward, and she just wanted to end the silence. She twisted a napkin in her hands while she waited for Lexa to respond.

“It was great seeing my family. I’ve missed them. Your mother was good? Your step-father?”

Well, that was a shot to the heart. Clarke says that she misses her, and Lexa’s response was to talk about their families? She was royally fucking this up. “Um, yeah…things were okay. Marcus is great, but Mom is mom. She still thinks that I should be a doctor and hates that I’m not pre-med, but I know she loves me and thinks that that is what’s best for me…” She chewed on her bottom lip. “That isn’t…I meant…I’ve missed _you_ , Lexa.” She hoped that she understood this time—that Clarke was trying so hard to fix them.

“I think that the time apart was good for us then.” Lexa cocked her head to the side, her eyes tracing over Clarke’s face.

The appraisal made Clarke wince, but she figured that that was the best she was going to get from Lexa, who kept things so close to the vest. “Can we…I was thinking…” She let out a breath, trying her hardest to figure out how to word things. “I’m scared that…sex…isn’t going to be…what I’m trying to say is...” She closed her eyes. “Can we start over?”

“Start over? Start what over?”

“Like, can we…can we date again? I think that that could help, you know, with sex.”

“Date again?”

God, it was like pulling teeth to get anything from her. Clarke was struggling to really articulate what she wanted, and Lexa wasn’t helping. “Yeah, date. I think things got off track with us for a bit, and I think that I got stressed out about it, so it was affecting our sex life. So, maybe if we start over…or, like, rediscover each other or whatever, we can get back to where we were before.” There. That made sense.

“So, that means…no sex?”

“Yeah. Not forever or anything! I just think that we shouldn’t try to jump into sex again and instead focus on us for a little bit.”

“Fine…I guess…” Lexa narrowed her eyes. “I feel it is important for you to know that _I_ didn’t think things got off track for us. You’re the one with the issue.” She paused, blinking a few times, and it made Clarke’s heart break, because she hardly ever showed when she was upset about something. “Now, you’re issue is affecting me.”

“Lexa…”

“Sex is an important part of relationships, Clarke. You know that.”

“So this is only about sex for you?” Clarke crossed her arms, holding her sides protectively. She felt the tears fill her eyes. She blinked hard, willing herself not to cry.

“No.” Lexa’s voice was low and firm. “But I know that when people stop having sex, there is a problem.”

Clarke sighed, because she acknowledged there was a problem. And, apparently Lexa didn’t see it as a problem between them. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was just a Clarke thing. Fuck, of course it was. It wasn’t just a Clarke thing. It was a Clarke and Bellamy thing. It was a nasty crush on her boss, and it was screwing with her head. She didn’t want it to mess with her head. She was actively trying to _stop_ it from messing with her head. And her relationship with Lexa. “I just…fine. It’s all me, Lexa.”

Lexa sighed loudly. She rested her elbow on the table and dropped her chin into her hand, supporting the weight of her head. “I’m not trying to pick a fight with you, Clarke.” Her face was void of emotion, and she spoke dryly and with a monotone.

“No, you’re right. It’s my fault. I’m trying to find a solution.” Clarke wiped at the single tear that slipped down her cheek.

“Don’t cry.” Lexa lifted her head and let her arm drop. Her hand was squeezed into a fist as she moved it closer to Clarke. Clarke stared at it, keeping both hands in her lap. After a moment, Lexa opened her hand, palm-side up. It took Clarke a moment longer before she reached out and placed her hand in Lexa’s. Lexa squeezed her fingers around Clarke’s hand, tightly enough that it pinched Clarke’s fingers slightly. She didn’t say anything about it, though. She needed to feel _something_ aside from the heartache she was experiencing. “I’m willing to try your… _solution_.”

Clarke nodded her head. She hoped that this would fix them. She hoped that it would work for them. She needed it to work for them. “I’m glad.”

* * *

Nearly three weeks had passed since Clarke and Lexa had decided to date each other again. It didn’t get off on the right foot at first, but Clarke thought that they might be making some good headway. They’d gone out to dinner a few times. They went to the movies. They went to sports games. Clarke had tried to drag Lexa to the art museum one afternoon, but Lexa appeared bored, so she suggested that they head to get a coffee instead after ten minutes. There had been a few heated make out sessions on couches and in cars, and even one of them resulted in Lexa’s hand on her breast…which was nice…more than nice, actually. Clarke had called it quits before she let things go further, because she wasn’t sure that she was there yet. She still hadn’t even tried masturbating yet, but she thought that things were progressing nicely.

“I think Echo is Bellamy’s girlfriend.” Octavia said one afternoon, a few days before Christmas, as she colored in the right squares on her math homework after solving all of the division questions. Clarke had decided that while O was on her mini-break from school, she’d keep her academic skills sharp, so she’d gotten a number math and vocab sheets from Mrs. Indra for O to work on.

Clarke froze at the island counter as she chopped up broccoli for the dinner she was making them that night. “Oh?” She said when she found her voice again.

“Yeah, they’re always talking on the phone. He whispers a lot. I don’t know what they’re saying. He called her _baby_ a few times.”

Clarke squeezed her eyes shut, because it felt weird for her still. She’d been working so hard to keep things with Bellamy professional only. They hardly texted, and when they did text, it was only to acknowledge when Clarke would arrive, when Bellamy would get home, or if he needed her to stay late or babysit on an off-day. She _knew_ that he was with Echo (or some other girl) on the days that he was home late or needed her to babysit on a Saturday night, but to _hear_ it…well, it fucking sucked. “Good for him and Echo.” She said firmly.

Bellamy was always home by ten every night that he needed Clarke to watch Octavia while he was with Echo, so Clarke liked to pretend that they weren’t having sex. Just like she and Lexa weren’t having sex. She knew that it was bullshit, but she was allowed to pretend, right? Fuck, why did she even _care_.

“I want to meet her. If she’s his girlfriend, I should meet her.” Octavia looked up from the worksheet. Her red crayon dropped to the table, and her bottom lip jutted out.

Clarke understood that. Even though she was older when her mom started dating again, it was weird at first for her to see her mom coming home late from dates. She was curious about the men that her mom dated. She wanted to know who they were—if they were good enough for her mom. Would they replace her dad? Then, her mom came home one day and said that she’d gone out on a few dates with a man named Marcus Kane—someone she and her dad knew in college. Apparently, they’d reconnected via Facebook (puke! Her mom was on Facebook!), and things were going great for them. Her mom told her that she thought that things could get serious for her and Marcus, and eventually they did. After about six months, Marcus came over for dinner, and he’d been a part of the family ever since. Clarke loved Marcus. He was great. He wasn’t her dad, but he was great. She was glad her mom was happy. (If only her mom could see what Clarke needed to be happy…)

“I get that, O. You’re curious, and you want to make sure that Echo is the right girl for Bellamy, but maybe he’s trying to figure that out, too?” She chewed on her bottom lip as she tried to explain things to the nine year old. “Maybe your brother wants to see if things with him and Echo could get serious before he introduces her to you.”

“What do you mean? Like they get married or something?”

“Sort of.” Clarke shrugged her shoulders. “He might not be thinking about that right now, because it’s only been a few weeks.” She began cutting the broccoli again. “Maybe he’s trying to see if he and Echo are just dating or if it could become a relationship. When my mom started dating after my dad died, she kept that separate from me. She didn’t want to introduce me to someone who wasn’t important to her. She wanted to make sure that I didn’t get hurt. I think that Bellamy might be doing something similar. He doesn’t want to bring someone into your life that might not stick around.” She winced when she said that. To a kid whose parents died, that is a sticky statement. “Um, that…”

“I know what you mean.” Octavia whispered. She sniffed and looked away from Clarke for a moment. It was obvious that she was thinking of her parents, because her generally cheerful face was cloudy with sadness. “They might break up, and he doesn’t want me to like her in case that happens.”

“Something like that.” She paused. “You should talk to him about it, though.”

“Why? He doesn’t want me to know her.”

“Yeah, you might not meet _Echo_ , but you should tell him that you’re curious about girls he might be dating. Again, he might not introduce you to them, because it’s not the right time.” She chewed on her bottom lip again. “He might not realize that you’re interested in who he is dating, though. He could talk to you about it. Let you know if it could be something real.”

“So, what do I say?”

“Exactly what you said to me. ‘Bell, is Echo your girlfriend? Can I meet her? I want to know about who you’re dating.’ Things like that.”

“You think he’ll tell me?”

“I don’t know, but it is worth a shot.”

“Thanks, Clarke.” Octavia returned to her picture and after a few minutes she crowed, “look! It’s Rudolph!”


End file.
